


The Prisoner’s King

by EdgarLee



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universes, BAMF Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Confident GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, GeorgeNotFound-centric (Video Blogging RPF), King GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Knight Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Lowkey fantasy AU, M/M, Slow Burn, george has long hair, karlnap, royal au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29328663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgarLee/pseuds/EdgarLee
Summary: “I never asked to be king,” he mutters to himself in the big expanse of the throne room. All alone on a throne that’s a size too big for him. Curtains a shade too dark for his liking, not that he can even see the exact shade of red he’s been told they are.——King George has been left to rule a kingdom all on his own without the slightest idea as to how. During one of his escapades from the castle he runs into a man on the run with freckles and a strong grip. It would’ve been fine if he hadn’t stolen his horse.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 81
Kudos: 268





	1. Chapter 1

“King George! King George!” Shouts sounded through the forest, growing distant as the dark horse sped. He needed to get away. He only prayed that the guards tired fast today and would give him his space. As the king he’s not allowed many hours of space or any alone time for that matter. It’s just not in his job description. He’s the king, he has responsibilities and his people depend on him but, he never wanted to be king. He never wanted any of this!

George tugged on the reigns and clicked his heel, begging the horse to go faster, get farther. It wasn’t until he could barely navigate the forest through its dense trees that he slowed to a stop. 

He let the horse wander by itself through the bushes and around trees, most likely looking for a spot to graze. He took the time to sit back and admire the scenery, something he didn’t have much time for anymore. The leaves were darker in this part of the forest, more green. 

As he was about to reach up and grab one he heard the rustle of a bush. Eyes darting around he gripped the horse’s reigns. His heart started to race. He was far from the kingdom, he wouldn’t have time to run back or even call for another guard. He doubted anyone would even hear. 

His heart is in his ears and his eyes are looking for the location of the rustling sound. It’s a bush to his left that his eyes land on when he notices something. 

A flash of color and then a man is jumping out. The horse rears up and whines loudly as the figure doesn’t back down. George tries to grab control of the horse in the midst of its fright but soon finds a powerful grip around his waist pulling him off of the horse. 

He’s shoved behind a bush with a gloved hand covering his mouth. The man makes a shushing motion in front of his own mouth and holds him pressed against the front of his chest. He’s certain he could feel the man’s heart beat if George could settle his own heart. 

George struggles against the grip but the man is stronger and much bigger than George. It’s then that George hears more rustling and the sound of leaves crunching beneath boots. 

“Where did he go?” A man groaned. 

“Oh god not again!” Another yelled. “That darn muffin!”

“Please for the love of god just call him a bitch or something.”

“Language!” The two seemed to be fighting from what George could hear and the man, who’s grip has still not loosened against George, seemed to be listening intently. George watched the man’s eyes flicker back and forth looking through the bush. He had scars on his face, one across his nose and another near his chin. He also had a light dusting of freckles across his face but it was probably impossible to see from any other distance than the closeness George was held at. 

This was ridiculous, George was certain. He’s a king! Who’s this man to shush him and hold him pinned behind a bush? And who are these people searching for him? His mind spun with questions and he wasn’t getting any answers at this rate. 

“Oh look a horse!” One spoke and George started to panic. He tried to grab at the man’s hands to release from his grip but the other only looked down at him with a glance and tightened. There was no way in hell he was letting some no good thief steal his horse, he had more pride then that. 

When George wouldn’t stop his struggling the man leaned down close to his ear and whispered. “Stop moving, we’re gonna get caught.” The closeness sent a shiver down George’s spine. He doesn’t let people touch him so frivolously, especially not some stranger. George was starting to grow tired of fighting against the man’s arms and fell lax. He thought he was starting to lose oxygen now that he thought about it. His nose was being blocked by the man’s large hand and his head was starting to feel light and funny. He almost wanted to just lean back and fall asleep. 

“Sapnap I think I found a trail!” The chirpy ones loud voice woke George back up into his body. 

“Great let’s go, good work Bad!” 

“Aww thank you!” As the footsteps started to grow quieter George was reminded of his light head and the man’s hand still around his mouth. He squirmed once more, hands uselessly flailing against the man’s hand. He had no grip and his hits felt like taps as his hands began to fall. 

“Oh shit!” The man cursed and soon his hand fell away and grabbed George’s shoulders as he began to fall back against his chest. George gasped and his eyes slowly blinked open. He mustered up his best glare at the man behind him, still panting for air. “Sorry about that, didn’t realize.” The blonde looked guilty and rubbed his back but it didn’t lessen the growing anger in the royal’s chest. 

As he finally caught his breath, he leaned away from the man and finally shot him the nastiest glare he had in him, his hair swiveling around with the turn of his head. 

“Hey watch where you swing that thing!” The blonde said, batting away the long brown hair that was flung against his face. 

“What the fuck was that? And who the fuck are you?”

“Well you’re colorful for a Royal.” George’s eyes widened minutely and he quickly looked for his crown that’d been knocked off his head. He found it resting against a tree in the soft grass, looking completely safe from harm. He dusted the thing off and adjusted it back on his head, flicking his hair over his shoulder and running a quick hand through the messed up strands. 

“Answers. Now.” George growled. 

“Right, I guess you deserve that much. You can call me Dream.” George turned around to look at the strange man who’d given him an even stranger name. It was then that he noticed how much taller he really was. A good couple feet taller. He had to crane his neck up just to look him in the eyes. How annoying. 

“Well then Dream, where do you get off on shoving someone behind a bush and covering their mouth til they pass out?” The blonde looked sheepish and began to rub his neck, picking at a loose thread on his hooded cape, a dark green and tattered looking thing, probably to help blend in with the forest.

“Yeah sorry about that, it wouldn’t have been pretty if we’d been caught though.”

“We?” George rose a manicured brow. “Oh I see, you’re on the run.” His lips twitched into a Fox like grin and the blonde looked a bit defensive. “Well then Dream, what crime did you commit to warrant,” he tossed a thumb in the direction the two headed off in, “that.” George reveled in the darkening of the man’s eyes, sheepish grin long gone. Good, let him get all broody. George’s smile only brightened as he walked a couple steps closer, ready to tease the man til he’s had his troubles worth. 

He had to admit, this was the most fun he’s had in years. The castle is stuffy and boring and he usually spends most of his days sleeping it away or in the garden but being caught in the middle of a thief chase wasn’t too bad in the entertainment department. 

“You seem pretty cocky little king,” Dream said, smile copying George’s fox like grin. The Royal sputtered. 

“Little king?” He wanted to shriek but he settled for a disgruntled huff. 

“Yep,” Dream copied George’s earlier stance, nonchalant and confident. “Because you’re short, much shorter than any king I’ve ever seen.” 

“I’m average.” George growled. Dreams eyes seemed to flicker away for just a moment before returning to George’s own. 

“Hm, sure, maybe where you’re from. Where I’m from you’re smaller then our teens.” 

“Are you trying to get thrown into prison?” 

Dream let out a low whistle. “Hm, dunno, chains? Maybe I’m into it.” George didn’t even know what this man was saying anymore. He was growing increasingly frustrated with this man’s words but when he started to walk backwards and leave the clearing he felt disappointment grow in his stomach. 

And then he hears his horse whinny and the man takes off on its back. 

“My horse!” George shrieks but the man’s cackling laughter disappears in seconds, swallowed by the trees and natural sounds of the forest. “That little- ugh!” George had had enough of the forest for one day, and he just knew this walk was going to be a long one. 

When George returns to the castle’s doors he’s fuming. No one has ever treated him that way before, especially never even imagined to take his horse. He doesn’t have much but he has an alias and a face and that’s enough for him. 

“Guards!” He barks as he enters his throne room, “I have a person I need you to seek.” 

The men stand at heal and listen to the description, one writing it down on a scroll. 

“Yes, your majesty.” They recite and then they’re gone. With the guards on a mission George hopes it’ll be enough to keep them away from him and to stop asking him for things. He doesn’t know how long it’ll take them to realize he’s not as competent as they think he is. 

“I never asked to be king,” he mutters to himself in the big expanse of the throne room. All alone on a throne that’s a size too big for him. Curtains a shade too dark for his liking, not that he can even see the exact shade of red he’s been told they are. 

It’s only been a year. A year too long of holding this kingdom in his small hand. It’s not a big kingdom but it’s not small either. There are bigger neighboring kingdoms for sure, many looking to overtake his in fact, and that’s the problem. Not only is his kingdom smaller then others, but it’s going through a famine. The rivers ahead stream have since stopped flowing with water necessary to grow crops or even wash clothes. Many of the villagers have to share the well and that’s even caused some fights to break out. And every time they look to George for a solution his throat closes up and his heart stammers. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t help them. He wasn’t built for this. He wasn’t even raised for this. He’s just some random fourth cousin pulled from the country after the royal family was assassinated, they still haven’t found who. That was his responsibility but he can’t think of any leads. He’s done nothing since his coronation besides sleep and let his people down. 

It frustrates him being this useless but it only breeds more anger when he remembers that he never wanted this in the first place. It’s not his fault. 

With nothing better to do, the King leaves his throne room and takes a stroll to his garden. It’s a tiny thing, mostly just a cluster of wild mushrooms and weeds that grow little blue flowers that he can see well enough that he decided to keep them. He’s unqualified to grow anything else but he doesn’t mind. It’s then that he notices the suns descent from the sky. It’s his favorite part of the day, bedtime. 

Now if he could only sleep. George groans and turns in his bed. Silk sheets feeling too hot against his skin even though the window is open and the air is cool. There’s thoughts racing through his mind for once, so many all at the same time. 

He sits up, sheets pooling at his waist and suddenly there’s a chill down his spine, and yet his skin still feels too hot. His head hurts. He’s so lost. What is he doing? He wants to cry but he can’t, there’s no use to cry over this. Instead he hangs his head against his arms as they rest against his knees folding into his chest. 

“This kingdom is on fire and it’s my fault.” He’s always known this and yet he’s never cared so much before. Why does he care now? Maybe it’s because at first he thought someone better would appear and come step in to take his crown but, the only ones who try to step in are those looking for his kingdoms ruin. He has enough pride and nostalgia to care for the ruin of his home. He was raised here, not in the castle but a part of this kingdom. He knows those streets, he used to run down them as a kid. These are his people, his rivers, his towns and villagers. So why can’t he help them? He doesn’t have the slightest idea as to how to cure any of their problems. He’s not cut out for this and has no guidance. God, at this rate he’s going to be getting no sleep. “It’s time to stop worrying,” he says in the quiet of his big room to himself. “It’s time to sleep,” he says as he leans back in a bed three sizes too big for him. But who’s to say he doesn’t mind? He’s never enjoyed touching others or sharing space like this. But, has it always felt this lonely? 

Without letting another thought interrupt he closes his eyes and softens his breathing, letting his head float off to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrest Dream a week later.   
> “Took the guards a while to find you,” George’s accent echoes across the prison walls. Cobbled stone and iron bars complete with lit lanterns hanging dimly outside the cell.   
> “I’m good at running,” the chains around Dream’s hands sound with every movement he makes. It draws attention to a detail George notices about the prisoner, he talks with his hands a lot.   
> “Then how’d they catch you?” George asks with a huff of a laugh, amusement clear in his tone.   
> “Kinda hard to hide a horse.”

They arrest Dream a week later. 

“Took the guards a while to find you,” George’s accent echoes across the prison walls. Cobbled stone and iron bars complete with lit lanterns hanging dimly outside the cell. 

“I’m good at running,” the chains around Dream’s hands sound with every movement he makes. It draws attention to a detail George notices about the prisoner, he talks with his hands a lot. 

“Then how’d they catch you?” George asks with a huff of a laugh, amusement clear in his tone. 

“Kinda hard to hide a horse.” Dream wears an easy smile, out of place for his surroundings. Sitting in a dingy cell with chains around his hands and feet makes his calm expression stick out starkly. But watching the man once so cocky before now chained to a cobbled wall burrows something in George’s stomach and it feels akin to joy and perhaps satisfaction. 

“Hmm, I’m sure you could’ve thought of something.” George’s voice is patronizing and it causes Dream to sneer before it turns into a cocky grin. 

“You know what they say about incompetent guards,” George’s face darkened as Dream’s smirk widened. “Incompetent king.” George threw a quick toed kick to the blondes gut and watched his back collide with the cobbled wall behind him as his chains clinked with the quick movement. 

“Watch your mouth, and don’t forget where you are. You’re a prisoner, best act like one.” Dream sat up and spit the blood out of the corner of his mouth.He stuck his tongue out before laughing. 

“Hah, biting ones tongue has got to be the worst pain one can feel.” 

“I can show you worse if you beg for it.” Dream looked up at the king sitting on his heels, head in hand, gazing down at him patronizingly. This would be the only time the royal is taller than the other but George reveled in the power of it. 

“Hm, I’ll take a rain check on that.” George smirked. 

“Thought so.” George hummed and then began, “Now then, why don’t you tell me why you are on the run and why you felt the need to steal a king’s horse?”

“Well, I mean,” George found the man’s voice to be aggravating to say the least. The nonchalance in his tone and his forever cocky demeanor brewed something nasty in the king’s gut and he just wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face. He hated how much it infuriated him. 

“Listen we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” George spoke with a newfound abruptness. “I control you here, your food, your isolation, and most importantly the length of your stay. So why don’t you just tell me what I want to know.” The blonde seemed to think to himself for a moment. And then he huffed a laugh and hung his head, blonde wavy hair moving with each laugh rising in his chest. 

“King George, are you aware that your threats are hard to digest when your crown is tilted?” George’s face bloomed red as he quickly stood up, backing away a step and checking his head, only to find his crown perfectly in place. The wheeze that tore out of the prisoner’s lips only incited the King’s fury further. 

“You think you’re funny.” He growled. 

“I think I’m hilarious.”

“Then spend the next couple days with your own jokes, alone.” George finished his statement with a pointed glare before spinning on his heel and exiting the long hall of the cobbled prison. He payed no glance to the prison keeper who, in his ventures to greet the king, quickly rethought his choices at the sight of his expression. 

The few servants bustling around the castle took one look and immediately gave the King his space as he walked, briskly, down the hall. No one had seen such fury on the King’s face, no one saw much of him anyways. But this seemed different, dangerous almost. No one wanted to get on his bad side, especially with a look like that. 

George ignored the whisperings and the quick movements of the help in the castle and made a beeline for his quarters. Straight to the room that was a couple sizes to big with a desk filled with papers and letters he could get lost in if he actually read them at all. 

His door slammed with his heel and a huff through his lips. How could one man be so infuriating? Why was he so worked up after one visit? What was absolutely wrong with that man? 

George could barely figure out his own thoughts but talking to Dream felt like a chess game where the board kept disappearing. One moment it was tense and he had checkmate in his palms and the next the man is wheezing as he throws the board across the room and the pieces scatter. It all felt like a game, one big game. It felt like... oh.

George understood now. 

Dream had been manipulating him, trying to get under his skin and find his weaknesses. He’d been aiming to see how far he could get and what it would take for the man to break. George groaned and slammed his crown on the desk, watching papers fly. And he’d let him get to him. That slimy little- George was interrupted from his raging thoughts by a brisk knock at the door. 

“Sire,” a servant spoke behind the door, “a guest awaits you in the throne room, our men found them lurking near the prison walls and once they approached them they’d requested a meeting with you. We can turn them away if you so desire.” George wondered who could be standing outside the prison. They had not many prisoners in his kingdom, a peaceful kingdom they were, the only prisoner they’d received recently was- 

“I will meet with them.” The king says as he opens the doors. The servant looks shocked but quickly gathers their expression. 

“Yes, your highness.”

As George enters the throne room he is proven right from his suspicions. Standing in the middle of the room, patiently waiting, are the two men he’d seen chasing Dream that day in the forest. What they were doing here requesting a seeing with him he did not know. 

As George took his seat on the throne he waved a hand for them to talk. The taller spoke first. 

“King George, We’ve come to request stay in your kingdom.” It’s heavy, even the weight of the crown on his head feels lighter than the title. He swallows his discomfort. 

“Do you ask for citizenship or temporary shelter? And may I ask why?” George could only hope his confusion didn’t ring so clearly in his voice. The other answers. 

“As temporary as your prisoner is locked up here, that is how long we will be staying.”

“I see, I figured you were here for him. Why?”

“As long as he’s locked up that’s all I care about, consider it extra guard control, if he escapes you’ll be certain we’ll be putting him back.” George couldn’t see the reasoning for this. Who would change residencies just to keep a prisoner locked up? Just what crime did that man commit to warrant such hatred?

“I see, well I suppose it’s fine.” The two looked stunned at the easiness of the grantship. George wasn’t one for long paper lists and checkings, if they got out of hand his guards could handle it. It wasn’t something he cared to bother with. “What are your names?” George asked. 

“Sapnap,” the shorter said first. 

“You can call me, Bad” George’s nose twitched. 

“Foreign sounding names but not my business. You’re free to roam this kingdom and do as you please so long as it pertains within the grounds of the law. If you wish to visit the prisoner however, you will need to speak directly to me and get my permission.” The two nodded and left quickly, George was grateful for that. He never enjoyed when they loitered in the hall. 

He could feel exhaustion seep into his shoulders. Perhaps he earned himself a nap. He ignored the feeling of shame rising in him at the thought of tiring so easily when he’s done nothing really special. It’s useless to get upset by something he doesn’t bother to change. 

And with that he leaves the throne’s hall. 

“Aw are you here to keep me company? How sweet, it’s almost like you’re doting on me.”

“You wish, it’s been three days since our first little visit, I figured it only humane to bring you water and bread.” George set the platter down and tossed it through the space beneath the bars, watching the blonde take a quick grab at the bread, rolling pieces beneath his fingers and popping them into his mouth. How could one’s form of eating grate on his nerves so much?

“I’ve been getting to know your prison guard pretty well. He brings me water and I ask him questions, did you know Sam has a son? Apparently he’s some king to some other kingdom of some sort.” Dream paused to swallow, “So then little king, what’s on the agenda for today’s interrogation?”

“You’re infuriating.” George states blankly. 

“It’s a talent.” Dream winks. 

“I’m well aware, though I think you should know for the past couple days your little hunters have been keeping residence in my kingdom.” The blonde’s hand stilled from its venture to his mouth. His reaction didn’t go unnoticed. “In fact, it’s to make sure you stay here. Now that just leaves me curious,” he can feel more than see the glare the man is pointing at him. “What the hell did you do?” A comfortable smile rose to the brunettes lips and he watched, with traces of amusement in his eyes, as the prisoner finally laid silent after his constant barrage of talk. 

“Tell me King, why is it I’m the only prisoner in this cell block? I doubt its because you find me threatening. You locked me up for stealing a horse. Doesn’t this seem a little extreme for stealing a horse?” George’s brows furrowed. 

“You ask too many questions for a prisoner.” That infuriating grin was back. 

“Then release me if you’re bothered.”

“Perhaps in your dreams, however I don’t think you quite understand what you’ve accomplished by passing onto my kingdoms grounds and stealing a horse. I hold a peaceful kingdom, so peaceful that we hardly are visited by monsters that are said to roam freely at night. Our crime rates are low and our wars even lower, newcomers are not expected and committing a crime like thievery means you question the peacefulness of this kingdom.”

“Hm, how sheltered.” George didn’t like that word but he couldn’t find it in him to argue against it. It was true, the neighboring kingdoms casted a dome of protection around his region, perhaps that’s why his kingdom is never taken seriously, even when the previous family was in control. But ever since George was given the crown it’s been radio silence from the castle. He doesn’t respond to the sibling kingdoms letters, doesn’t attend their diplomatic balls. He hardly even goes for a stroll in the streets anymore, he’s certain there’d be a riot if he showed his face, especially with the famine they were going through. George’s kingdom was on the brink of dying out or being taken over by war. It could happen at any moment and it was a responsibility that George just couldn’t handle, but this prisoner didn’t need to know that. 

Maybe his sentence was a bit harsh for stealing a horse but he must have done something horrible to warrant a reaction like that from the two men who’d spent days hunting him. So he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad for the man sitting on the hard cobble with his platter scrapped clean. 

“Says the man currently locked in a cell.” The prisoner made a noise in his throat. 

“Well you got me there.” George honestly couldn’t tell if this man just simply didn’t understand the depravity of his situation or perhaps he was used to worse. Then George wondered if he’d caught a war criminal. He was itching to know. This man was possibly the most interesting thing to happen to him in years and it made his chest ache to know he was so infuriatingly guarded about his interesting stories. 

“Now that I think about it,” Dream’s gaze flicks up to his, “why were you in my boarders? That means you must’ve run through the sibling kingdoms territories, now how did you manage that without getting caught?” Dream’s smile returned and it shone of pride. 

“Guess I’m just that good.”

“Focus on the why not the how,” 

“Hm, well you see I was obviously being chased, and since the only other way I could run was west, well forgive me for following the natural terrain into an invisible territory of kingdoms I don’t care to know the names of. You just so happened to be wandering about a forest in the middle of the day when most kings are tucked neatly in their castles doing kingly duties.” George ignored the pointed statement used to get a rise out of him. 

“What a bummer for you.” If Dream was upset by his calm expression he didn’t show it. 

“Yeah well, at least I don’t have to run now, I can just sit here nice and tidy.” George almost laughs at the word choice seeing as Dream is currently picking dust bunnies off of his trousers. “It’s really a big help If you think about it.”

“Really, then you should be happy to stay here for the rest of your life.” George grinned. He could arrange that. Dream paused in his picking. 

“Oh come on,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “You’d waste prison space on lil ole me?” 

“I wouldn’t waste a guillotine on you so I’ll let you rot in a cell.” It must’ve been hilarious to Dream because he’s holding his stomach and wheezing a harsh laugh. 

“Wa- wait hold on! Give me a minut-“ he says in between his laughter. He’s quick to amuse and George can only find it annoying. 

“Done yet?”

“Not even kinda.” he says with a wide smile and tears in his eyes full of mirth. George wonders how he can have so much joy and laughter whilst being locked in a cell. It doesn’t make sense. 

“Right well I’ll leave you to your laughter and such, I expect to find out your crimes tomorrow.”

“See you then.” Dream gave an exaggerated wave as George left the cell and exited down the hall. 

The view outside of George’s window in the King quarters is probably the best part about the castle if he’s to be honest. He can see the market and shops and little lights illuminating the towns down below. It feels out of reach but it reminds him of festival days as a kid. 

Warm pastries and warmer chests, filled with excitement and adrenaline. Dancing that made his feet hurt and his cheeks hurt even more from the grin stuck on his face. His mother’s laughter rung in his ears as he watched his father spin her. It was always fun to watch the love they had. It seemed rare and special and George wondered if someone would ever look at him like that. 

After they’d passed he started to care less and less of people and their smiles pointed toward each other. You never knew if it was fake or real and it was a waste of energy to bother. 

George throws a quick glance to the desk filled with papers. A waste of energy to bother. It tore a sigh from his chest so he turned back and closed the curtains, a deep blue. He’s told the curtains are muted and drab with use but he thinks they are the prettiest curtains in the entire castle. Blue hue so vibrant and calm. It’s perfect for his naps during the day. Less perfect for when he tries to sleep at night. 

He lays in his bed and he wonders what this is all for. Eventually the sibling kingdoms will grow angry with his absence if they haven’t already. Eventually a war will break out. And eventually the famine will spread and if a war doesn’t come from outside it’ll come from inside. It’s too much to think about so he doesn’t. Instead he sleeps and he hopes it’ll fix itself whilst knowing it won’t. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watching the two bestfriends breakdown while their oldest friend sits in a cell by himself, it hurts.
> 
> Maybe that’s why he lets them stay in a room in the castle. Maybe that’s why he gives them 24/7 access to the kitchen. Maybe that’s why he checks in on them later that night to them sleeping comfortably in the study next to the warm fire. Maybe that’s why he drapes a blanket across their shoulders. Or maybe, George is just lonely and considers them the friends he’s never had.

There are men in his front hall early in the morning, one looking lost and the other looking grumpy as usual. 

“Sapnap and Bad was it?” The two jump and look up at the King’s voice. 

“Yes, your highness,” Sapnap answers. He can feel a frown tugging on his lips so he raises his hand. 

“George is fine.” The two look momentarily stunned before calming down. “Why are you here?” 

“Well you see,” Bad speaks, “we wanted to ask how the prisoner’s doing.” Sapnap looks at his feet with his arms crossed and a frown, he looks like he doesn’t want to be here and George can’t blame him, he doesn’t want to be here either. 

“I was just on my way to the prison actually.” Bad seems to perk up. 

“Oh great! We were just wondering actually if we could-“ bad looks at the worsening mood of his friend, “or well, if I could come along and see him?” He sounds unsure himself. George thinks for a moment. Seeing familiar faces might make him talk, and he might even be able to find out more about his crimes. 

“Sure,” Bad looks ecstatic and Sapnap looks like he wants to crawl into a hole. 

Bad turns to Sapnap and the two exchange whisperings. Sapnap looks a bit less tense and he leaves the castle. 

“Well,” Bad says, “shall we go?” He says with a wide smile. 

The prison’s entrance is probably the most elaborate and expensive thing in his kingdom. Long ago the entirety of his kingdom was a prison used for the monsters that lurk passed the walls of the sibling kingdoms, but now it’s simply a peaceful place with villagers and a famine. 

Sam nods as the King enters, sparing no questions for the extra guest. They approach the last cell down the long hall and George passes a glance to his companion. Bad looks nervous and George can’t blame him. 

The two step into the cell and before Dream’s head rises George can tell he notices the extra pair of feet. 

“Hiya buddy,” Bad speaks—it sounds like he’s talking to an animal, or perhaps an old friend,—and Dream looks up in a jolt, surprise open on his features.“Um, I came for some answers if that’s alright with you,” Dream remains silent, neutral expression taking his face as Bad continues to speak. “Why?” Bad’s voice cracks and George waits for Dream’s reaction. It doesn’t show on his face but if he’s really paying attention he swears he can see it in his eyes. “Why did you do it?” Bad continues, and he sounds like he’s going to cry. 

Silence rings through the cell. The only sound that does come is the sound of the chains around his arms moving as he crosses his arms and lowers his head. His body language is distant and cut off and George knows he won’t be talking. He can feel Bad’s disappointment before he hears his sigh. 

“I understand,” Bad’s voice has calmed and the only traces of his crying comes in the form of the puffy redness around his eyes. “I’m sure you had your reasons and I know Sapnap doesn’t trust you but I still do. I know you would never do something without extensive reason...” he’s pressing his fingers together so hard they turn white and he looks like he’s going to start shaking. “I just wish you’d open up and tell us, the truth.” He looks up, blinking fast, before looking back towards Dream, head still lowered. “I’ll come visit again, maybe later when you feel ready and I’ll try to bring Sapnap too.” He spins on his heel and turns down the hall. George assumes he’s trying to leave before the tears fall again and a part of his chest hurts for him. His eyes turn back to Dream. 

He’s staring at a crack in the floor and George notices his thumb rubbing small hardly, noticeable circles, against the space between his thumb and forefinger. He doesn’t move as George closes the cell and leaves. 

George watches Bad standing at the entrance of the prison. He’s rubbing his arm in a self soothing motion, similar to the movement Dream had been making. 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” George starts and Bad turns to meet his gaze, “what exactly happened?” Bad looks restless but sighs. 

“It’s a long story, would you like to have it over some tea?” George nods. 

George pokes at the fire in the study he’s never been in before and watches it’s light dance lazily against the furniture and Bad’s face. The tea in front of them is slow to cool from the warmth of the fire. As George leans against the back of his chair, Bad starts his story. 

“Once upon a time, we had all been close friends. We were explorers in a way, we’d take jobs here and there and search for missing things or people. Sometimes even monster heads or something scary like a dragon’s tooth or claw.” Bad makes a motion with his hand, clearly into his story telling. “It was fun, a lot of fun,” his voice turns somber. “We’d been doing it for years, since we met.” His body shakes as he takes a deep breath. “One day we’d gotten a job from a Kingdom called Lmanberg,” 

George had heard of the kingdom, everyone had. It was strong, powerful, but not as successful as it seemed. All of its rulers came to the throne through coup d’états and wars. It wasn’t a very peaceful kingdom. 

“At the time Wilbur was king and he’d ask us to retrieve a special dragon’s egg from another realm called The End. Have you heard of it before?” George shook his head, he couldn’t say he’d had. 

Dream was right when he said George‘s kingdom was sheltered but so was he. He’s not stepped outside of the siblings’ territories even once, and he’s only been to one of the siblings’ kingdoms on a mandatory meeting. 

Bad continued, “well, The End was told to be extremely hard to find, almost a myth, but after a week of searching we’d found it! It was amazing! The portal was gorgeous and inside the end was even cooler! It was like a void with nothing but this Island standing, floating, in the middle and it held large pillars of obsidian surrounding this one sunken space that looked to be where the dragon slept. When we arrived the dragon instantly tried to attack us but we’d fought by each other’s sides for a long time. I don’t know how long it took but eventually we killed it and retrieved the egg. Everything was going well until that night. 

After we’d set up camp, we decided to sleep in shifts like we usually did. Dream took the first shift. But when Sapnap woke up for his turn, Dream was gone and so was the egg.” George’s eyes widened, engrossed in the story. Why would Dream do such a thing? Was the egg important In some way? Was there something he knew that the others didn’t? 

“We were so caught up with Dream abandoning us that we forgot our deal with L’manberg. When we’d returned empty handed they were far from pleased.” Bad looked sick, like he was having a memory he didn’t want to have. “But our only way to make up for coming empty handed was to capture Dream and retrieve the egg.” George hummed. It now made sense as to why they had decided to stay in his kingdom. L’manberg would be unable to retrieve Dream so long as he was his prisoner or resident of his kingdom. 

“Right now we don’t know if he even still has it, I’m glad you were able to catch him though, I’m afraid what would happen if it was us and we were forced to give him to L’manberg. I can’t stomach the thought of having to do that.” The fire pops and cackles as they sip their tea in comfortable, thoughtful, silence. 

The night air is biting compared to the warmth of the study and George thinks to himself as he waves Bad Goodnight. He remembers his last request. 

“After your meetings with Dream, can you come talk to me and Sapnap? I want to know how he’s doing and see if maybe he really has changed. It would mean a lot to me and even though I know Sapnap is still angry, I think it would mean a lot to him too.” George had agreed to Bad’s request. It felt like the least he could do after Bad had explained everything. The story was getting more interesting and George was feeling just a bit more restless to figure out the truth. 

It leaves him awake in his bed staring at his painted ceiling, wondering how to get a straight answer out of Dream and what he could’ve possibly been thinking. Why would he abandon his friends like that?

George didn’t know Dream’s personality much but he knew that look on his face and he could tell Dream must’ve regretted something every time he saw his friend’s face. 

Dream shows no signs of what happened yesterday. It’s almost like it never happened. He’s back to his snarky self much to George’s chagrin. 

“Little king have you shrunk a bit? Or are your heels just getting smaller and smaller by the day?” George gritted his teeth and held back an eye roll he so desperately wanted to release. 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“Teasing you makes these chains bearable I must say.” He said with a glittering smile and a shake of his chains. 

George is smarter than he looks. He knows dream is trying to manipulate him. Trying to avoid the topic of yesterday and his questions. Fine, George thinks to himself, if he wants to play a game, he’ll play. 

“It seems you’re coming to enjoy the chains then? How lovely, I’m glad we could be so accommodating for you.” Dream’s eyes glinted. 

“Yes, very. Though I do think it would be much more fun if you had been the one to put them on me.” George choked. Did he hear that correctly? Dream took one look at his face and started to laugh. George’s ears reddened, it was a part of the game. 

“Your flattery doesn’t get you nearly as far as you think it does.”

“Are you saying you mistake my affections for flattery?” Dream batted his lashes and George sneered. 

“Revolting.” The blonde slapped at his knee, hyena cackle that turned into a wheeze midway as he choked for air. George patiently waited for the man to snap out of his hilarity. 

“Now then little king,” he speaks, finally sober, “let’s not be so harsh.” George wrinkled his nose. 

“I’m average in height, not little.” George grumbled and Dream’s eyes flashed with something too fast to be able to tell, because now he was standing and walking ever closer to the king. The sudden height difference sent a shock down George’s spine as the prisoner towered over him. 

“You forget, little king. It pains me you do not remember our first day of meeting. I,” George gulps, “am much bigger than you.” 

George covered his expression with a hand and a cough before looking away and taking a couple steps back, out of reach from the chains range. He made a mental note to stand further from the man from this day forward. 

“You,” he begins, “are an abomination to human evolution.” Dream looked stunned before a laugh racked at his chest. 

“And you are amusing.”

“Well, you’re not,” he spoke simply, “so I will be taking my leave now.” 

“Bye bye!” The man waved and George didn’t bother him a glance as he locked the cell behind him. 

As George exited the dimly lit cobbled hall he noticed the guards entering with a man he’d never seen before, struggling in their arms. 

“What is the meaning of this?” He said as he approached, the man calmed his struggling briefly. 

“Fight broke out in the market place,” the guard spoke, “caught him stealing from a family and a fight broke out. He’s being detained for a couple days.” George nodded. Since his coronation the guards have held the responsibility over the village but he’s usually informed of such things. He watched them drag the man away to a cell to detain him for the night. It seemed the famine was only getting worse. 

It smells of old books and chamomile tea. He’s sitting in the study that he’s only been in once before, and tapping at the arm of his chair. His mind is elsewhere as he gazes at a chip in the table sitting before him. It’s made of a deep colored wood, he can’t tell the exact shade but he assumes it has red in it somewhere. Most of the castle had red in it he’d come to realize. 

He’s broken out of his thoughts by the sound of the door opening. 

“Hello,” Bad calls with a short wave. Sapnap flanks his side and makes no move to greet him, George doesn’t mind. 

“Thank you for accepting my request!” Bad chirps happily as he takes his seat in front of the table and his eyes brighten at the sight of cookies resting on a platter next to the tea. 

“It’s nothing,” George assures. “You told me your story so it’s only fair.” Bad nods happily, grabbing a cookie to keep his hands from fidgeting. It doesn’t last long until his other hand is picking at an invisible string on his trousers. 

“So, um, did he- did he say anything?” Bad stutters. 

“Oh he said a lot,” George huffed. The man brightened. “But not about what you’d discussed. In fact he ignored the entire meeting even happening.” He deflated. 

“He was deflecting it wasn’t he?” Sapnap spoke up, “Making jokes and probably teasing you instead of saying anything about Bad.” George nodded and Sapnap shook his head with a bitter grin. 

“Sounds like Dream alright. He hates conflict, especially when he doesn’t know how to respond to it. Bad caught him off guard so he shut down. I told you it wasn’t going to work.” Sapnap finished, shooting Bad a pointed look. Bad looked offended. 

“Well it doesn’t hurt to try!” He retorted in defense. 

“But it did hurt! It hurt you didn’t it when he didn’t even make eye contact with you!” Bad flinched. Sapnap paused and turned back in his seat, remembering they weren’t alone. 

“I don’t know him well,” George starts, staring at his flickering reflection in his tea that’s since gone cold, “but from what I’ve seen so far, he doesn’t seem like he’ll talk about this just out of the blue. He’s going to need an incentive.” 

Sapnap sighs. “I’ll go see him.” George looks up, surprise written on his face. Bad mirrors his expression but it quickly morphs to excitement.

“Really?” Bad asks, practically bouncing in his seat. 

“Yeah, if anyone can get him to talk it’ll be me. He’s ashamed when it comes to you Bad, afraid of your disappointment but with me, he knows I’ll fight him til my fists are bloodied.” George suddenly grew very worried about the well being of his prison. That would be a bitch to clean. 

Unlike last time, Dream had his back turned to the trio when they entered the cell. He’s lying on the hard cobble with an arm behind his head, facing the wall. George can tell he’s awake from the hitch in his breath when he hears Sapnap sigh. 

“At least turn around and greet your guests dude.” Sapnap sounds tired and Bad looks like he wants to comfort him but retracts his hand. George watches with surprise when Dream sits up, head hung low and arm braced on his curled up knee. It’s the most responsive he’s been to his old friends. Maybe Sapnap was right, maybe he will talk. 

Sapnap doesn’t wait for any other sign of his attention being on him, he’s not sure he’ll receive it anyways. “What happened to you man?” He asks. 

He expects silence but the blonde responds. “I gave up.”

“You gave up?” Sapnap parrots and doesn’t bother to hide the offense in his tone. “On who, your friends?” 

“If it helps to think that then sure.” Dream says blankly. 

“It doesn’t help Dream! Just tell me-“ Sapnap’s voice sounded close to breaking. 

“Tell you what?” Dream snaps. “That I was trying to protect you?”

“Just tell us the truth!” Sapnap yells back. 

“And what if that is the truth?” Dream finally makes eye contact with Sapnap and George feels the tension rise. He knows from the way Bad is fidgeting that he does too. “Would you believe it? What if the truth is unbelievable? What then Sapnap! And if that’s really the problem then do you think you would’ve believed the truth at the time?” He’s snarling and biting but there’s fear behind his words. Sapnap looks like he’s going to scream but it never comes. 

“Your fear was trust?” He asks, eyes wide and voice watery. The sound of it has Dream’s eyes widening and his face shifting. “You were afraid you couldn’t trust us?” Sapnap repeats. Dream looks like he wants to speak but can’t find the words. Sapnap doesn’t give him the time to speak before he’s walking out of the cell room and down the hall. Bad calls after him but he doesn’t stop. 

Their footsteps echo and dim in the distance as George stands there, watching emotions flash across Dream’s face before it falls into a neutral numb. He’s closed himself off. 

George sighs inwardly, that could’ve gone a lot better. 

As George exits the prison he watches Bad hold a crying Sapnap to his chest, rubbing has back comfortingly. It tugs on George’s empathy just enough that he has to look away before he starts to cry too. 

Relationships seem complicated. George can’t recall a time he’s ever had such close relationships beside his parents. Perhaps that’s why he can’t bother himself with the famine. He’s distanced himself from the emotions of his people so he doesn’t feel more guilt. But watching the two bestfriends breakdown while their oldest friend sits in a cell by himself, it hurts. 

Maybe that’s why he lets them stay in a room in the castle. Maybe that’s why he gives them 24/7 access to the kitchen. Maybe that’s why he checks in on them later that night to them sleeping comfortably in the study next to the warm fire. Maybe that’s why he drapes a blanket across their shoulders. Or maybe George is just lonely and considers them the friends he’s never had. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you’re serious about this,” he started, a calm expression on his face, “then if there’s anything I know about Dream, it’s that he’s the one most able to run a kingdom.” George didn’t know what Bad meant by that but he seemed certain in his words and a part of George knew he could trust Bad.

“Why’d you do it?” George leans back against the bars to the cell, cold metal pressing into his back. 

“He told you?” Dream looks like he hasn’t slept. 

“You would’ve done it eventually, I just sped up the process.” He watches the words process in the prisoner’s mind before he continues. “So, why’d you steal the egg?” 

“Who knows.” George holds back a sigh. He can feel the frustration Sapnap must’ve felt. 

“What is so important about it anyway, there has to be something if you abandoned your friends over it.” Dream obviously didn’t look like he wanted to talk but George frankly didn’t care. He just wanted answers. And maybe he felt a bit desperate to give Sapnap and Bad some closure. 

“Hm, if that’s true then why are you ignoring your kingdoms famine.” George stiffened, his eyes widening and mind reeling. How’d he even known. Dream’s face didn’t hold the cocky grin he was expecting, just a neutral face and a question. A question George couldn’t answer. 

He felt his chest start to ache but he couldn’t let this get to him. He’s manipulating him, changing the topic and spinning it on him. He couldn’t let him know more than he wanted to let on. But it was already too late, Dream had seen his reaction and he knows. But Dream didn’t look condescending. If anything it looked like empathy in his eyes, but George wanted to throw up before thinking about Dream understanding how he feels.

“How’d you even know that?” 

“Word travels, even inside a cage. Sam sometimes mutters about how lucky I am to be getting fed in the middle of a famine.” 

The famine was his fault. If only he’d been a better king. If only the old family hadn’t been assassinated he wouldn’t have needed to be a better king. If only he wasn’t king. He never-

He slammed the brakes on his spiraling thoughts, quickly composing himself. He just couldn’t handle this today it seemed. 

“I’ll come back in the evening for your questioning, I’m cutting this one short.” Dream looked surprised but watched him leave without another word. 

The man’s first words to him when he returns start an argument he never thought he’d have. 

“That is the ugliest shade of green I’ve ever seen.” Dream said, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the silk garment covering George’s body. 

“What are you talking about?” George couldn’t believe he was getting bullied about what he wore by a man in chains and rags. And his shirt wasn’t even green, it was a pale yellow, almost beige. 

“It doesn’t match at all! You’re wearing blueish trousers and a green shirt?” George figured he must’ve been messing with him again, but why would he go so far as to insult his clothes and lie about the colors? “Not to mention the green is just so muted.”

“Ok fashion guard.” George said, crossing his arms. “It’s not like I get to choose my clothing often.”

“What? You’re the king, aren’t you like allowed to do anything?”

“As if my maids would let me be caught dead wearing anything that aren’t in the royal color palette.”

“Then you should be dressed to perfection, not wearing that ugly green.” George didn’t understand why he was pushing it so hard! It wasn’t even green!

“Ok well I didn’t pick it out! I never wanted to be king anyway.” He didn’t mean to say it but he did. In the midst of his minds reeling and defensiveness to the man’s insults, it escaped. His fears and worries somehow all held onto that outburst. He expected a laugh or maybe another insult. He didn’t expect this. 

“Then how about we make a deal.” Dream said. 

“What kind of deal?” George asked, skepticism clear in his brow. 

“Make me your Knight and advisor and let me help you rule this country.”

“What?” That was the most outlandish idea George had ever heard. 

“You heard me. You said you don’t want to be king and from the state your kingdom is in I doubt that you even know how to rule.” George bit his tongue, holding back his retort, “Then make me your Knight and Advisor and I will help you rule. I will make you the king the people expect of you. And at the end of the day you still hold all of the power, I mean, you’re the king, not me. I’m just a stepping stone.” George was still reeling. How did they go from insulting his clothing to forming a contract?

“And how do I know you won’t kill me and take the crown?”

“I guess you don’t but, that’s what makes it exhilarating doesnt it?” George is reminded of the game they’ve been playing. The flirting and the manipulating. How much of Dream’s words were lies and how much were true? I guess that’s the fun part of the game. 

“And if I don’t trust you?”

“Execute me.” George blinked. 

“Sounds a bit harsh.”

“Well, I mean,” Dream seemed to act like such a thing was trivial. 

“I’ll need to think on it.”

“Sure thing little king.”

“He’s manipulating you!” Sapnap shouted. The table shook with the weight of his fists. They’d taken hostage of the study again, a seemingly permanent meet up space. 

“You think I don’t know that?” George huffs. 

He knew his honeyed words and playful smile was micromanipulation just to reach his goal, whatever that was. He knew it but he couldn’t help but hope that Dream meant it when he said he’d help him. Ever since he’s taken on his crown and his kingdom he’s never had an ounce of an idea as how to run it. He’s never had any help, no guidance. He never wanted to be king in the first place. Maybe that’s why he’s considering the offer. 

“George, Dream only wants security in this kingdom that isn’t a prison cell. If he’s released he’ll be captured by L’manberg and put to death but he knows by making this deal he avoids that fate. I don’t want him dead either but I do want him to pay for his crime.”

“Sapnap I understand how you feel but my kingdom is in a famine and I’m sure you’ve noticed that. And that’s not the end to it’s problems, it’s only the beginning. Crime is starting to rise and more prisoners are being held. I don’t want to enslave my people for wanting to eat but I do need to keep them alive.” Sapnap looked taken back but then he let it sink in. George could only hope he understood the stress he was under. 

Sapnap sighs. 

“I just think your responsibilities of being a king shouldn’t be dependent on a prisoner who won’t even be honest. Don’t let him ruin this kingdom like he ruined us.” And it was like a slap to the face. Sapnap was right. Who’s to say he wouldn’t burn his kingdom alive. He needed reassurance. 

The study had slipped into an uncomfortable silence after that until Sapnap excused himself. It was in that moment that Bad decided to turn to George. 

“If you’re serious about this,” he started, a calm expression on his face, “then if there’s anything I know about Dream, it’s that he’s the one most able to run a kingdom.” George didn’t know what Bad meant by that but he seemed certain in his words and a part of George knew he could trust Bad. 

But it still wasn’t enough. He hardly knew Dream, why would he let the man help run his kingdom? His mind was filled with these thoughts as he stared blankly out of his room’s window. 

And then an arrow pierced through, grazing his cheek. 

He looked behind him only to see the arrow catch on fire, quickly burning the things around it. It’s flame danced hungrily, licking up everything in its sight. His desk of papers he’d never touched seemed to burst into flame simply by existing in the same air as the arrow. They’re storming the castle, they’re hungry, and they’re mad. 

George runs down to the front of the castle looking for staff to help put out the fire but they aren’t on his side. They’re the ones leading the village. He hears loud banging on the castle’s doors, bricks crashing through the windows, and screaming from outside. It rings in his ears and off the polished tiles. 

And then he sees him mom and dad and they’re dancing in the throne room. A moment of peace stark against a backdrop of fire. Then they’re turning to him and he wants to cry. He wants to run and hide in their arms and scream. He never wanted to be king. This wasn’t supposed to be his responsibility!

Their mouths are moving and even from his distance he can hear their voices like ghosts behind his ears. 

“George, we expected better of you.” His father says. 

“The people needed you George, look at what you’ve done to them.” His mother says. 

And he’s crying because they’re right. It’s his fault. He can’t keep making excuses. This is all his fault. It doesn’t take an arrow to his heart from an angry villager to see that, but it is what wakes him from the nightmare. 

He jolts in the arm chair he’d fallen asleep in, sweat dripping down his neck. The fire has gone out and the only light is from a small flame sitting in a lantern on a desk nearby in the study. His thin silk shirt clings to his skin as he cries into his palms. 

“What do I do? I’ve made a mess of this kingdom and I don’t know how to fix it.” It’s then that he notices a blanket draped around his shoulders. He takes the fabric into his hands and he thinks back to Dream’s offer and Bad’s words and suddenly it doesn’t feel like that outlandish of an idea. Suddenly it feels like his only shot. 

As George enters the prison he starts to feel his chest buzz. Is he really doing this? George still didn’t like the sound of this deal. Who’s to say Dream wouldn’t completely skimp out of it? What if it was just more manipulation? His mind had been fuzzy ever since Sapnap had given him that warning. He only hoped he could trust the reassurance. 

“I have a new deal,” Dream’s head lifted and his eyes met George’s as he entered the cell. “You tell me why you took the egg and I’ll let you become my advisor.” Dream’s expression tightened but he seemed to be considering it. 

Then with a huff and a smile he said, “fine, it’s a deal.” George could barely contain his own smile. He didn’t expect to be this excited to finally finish the puzzle. “A bomb.” His smile dropped. 

“What?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard right. 

“The egg was a bomb. Wilbur Soot wanted to blow up Lmanberg under the guise of terrorists, then he would have us locked up to blame.”

“How did you know this?”

“I met a guy who liked to write books.”

“What?” Dream was speaking in riddles and George wanted to scream, “what does that even mean?”

“Anyway I told you, now uphold your end of the deal.”Was George really going to do this? He can’t back out now, Dream had already upheld his end. But what if it was a lie?

“Why didn’t you tell the others then?” 

“They would be looking at me the same way you are.” George thought a moment. He hated to admit that the man might be right. Suddenly the feeling of the keys in his pocket felt heavy. He wouldn’t have been able to get his legs to move, if It wasn’t for Bad’s words repeating in his head. 

“if there’s anything I know about Dream, it’s that he’s the one most able to run a kingdom.”

He took the keys from his pocket and walked towards Dream, kneeling as he stared at his outstretched arms with chains shackled to them. He unlocked the shackles and watched them fall to the ground as Dream rubbed his ankles and stood. 

“God, that feels better already. Now, I hope you have a change of clothes for me because we have a lot of work to do.” His words sparked a smidge of hope. George only hoped he could trust those words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shits about to get interesting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man’s clinginess was definitely something to get used to. He figured the whole arrangement was something to get used to but, he was certain it was for the best. He didn’t really know if he could trust Dream but a part of him trusted Bad’s judgement.
> 
> “If there’s anyone able to run a kingdom, it’s Dream.”

“Here’s a key to your room, but just know I also have one in case anything happens. My room is next door in case I need you since you’ve become my Knight.” Dream seemed to be looking all around the hall rather than at George. “Are you listening?” Dream’s eyes met back with his. 

“Yup! You’ve got a spare key to the room I’m in and you’re next door, got it all!” He said with a smile. George furrowed his brow but said nothing. 

“Alright well there’s a change of clothes in the dresser in your room-“

“Oo! Is there a bath?” 

“Yes of course-“

“Fucking finally! Yes! See you soon Georgie!” The man practically ran into the room and closed it behind him, leaving the king standing in the hall alone and stunned. George blinked at the space the man once was before sighing and retreating to his own room. He really hoped he didn’t end up regretting this decision. But having the man’s room so close to his wasn’t only so he could be there if he needed him, it also helped George keep an eye on Dream. 

He hadn’t expected to see the blonde for the rest of the night but soon enough he barges through George’s bedroom doors in nothing but a pair of trousers and a towel slung around his neck. George wrinkles his nose at the indecency before he’s taken back by the dripping droplets of water coming from the man’s hair all over the expensive carpet of the room. 

“You’re dripping all over the place Dream! Dry your hair off first!” The blonde rolls his eyes at the king’s squawking. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” He says before ruffling his hair with the towel. He shakes his hair out like a dog and only succeeds in shedding more water around the room. George wants to scream but opts for throwing a pillow he doesn’t have much care for. 

Dream makes a noise as it makes contact and suddenly George is being hit square in the face by the decorative pillow. It falls in silence and the air is tense as a moment passes. And then Dream is holding his stomach and wheezing so hard George fears for his breathing capabilities. He’s close to rolling on the floor and George throws the pillow back to silence him. It is ineffective in its venture. 

“Dream please, think about my poor carpet.” He throws the pillow back. 

“Poor? This carpet is far from poor.” George holds it for a moment. 

“Exactly!” He screams, launching the pillow back at Dream and hitting the door instead from the man’s calculative dodge. Instead of responding he snoops around George’s room. 

He presses his fingers against the mahogany desk and blows a low whistle at the messy stacks of papers covering its surface. 

“We have a lot of work to do.” He whispers mostly to himself but George manages to hear.He is about to squawk in protest again as Dream sits in the chair, hair still wet, half naked, with a towel slung around his neck, but he halts himself at the expression the man is wearing. He looks serious and George never thought that was a possibility for the man til now. 

He’s rifling through letters and his yellow eyes are diligently scanning each one. From the way he’s moving them it seems to be pretty fast. George isn’t sure if he’s reading every word or just skimming but he waits in silence as the man stacks the papers accordingly and reads a couple in his hands, asserting them into piles based on their senders, or he assumes he is. George can’t see too well from his spot on the bed’s edge and he doesn’t feel like walking any closer. 

“How long have you been ignoring these people?” Dream says, indignant tone rising as he continues to thumb through the letters. 

“Ever since my coronation.” George answers honestly, there’s no point to lying if he intends to fix his mistakes. Dream doesn’t comment on it, he instead decides to comment on the statements he reads in a few. 

“With dearest love from your sibling Nihachu- are you even related to these people?”

“Nope.” George says, popping the p and swinging his legs. Watching Dream’s face contort into different emotions and expressions from every little word is quite amusing George has to admit, and it makes him feel less nervous about his decision. 

“This is ridiculous, this is going to take hours, we need to dedicate a whole day to this but it’s not going to be tomorrow.”

“Why, do you already have a plan?”

“Well obviously.” Dream rolls his eyes, momentarily looking away from the letters. “You have to go through the basics that a king should know.”

“And that would be?” George questioned, brow raised. 

“Self defense.” Dream states bluntly. 

“What? Why? I have you for that, Mr. Knight in well,” he gestures to the man with his hand, “bath towel.” 

“Hah,” he laughs with no mirth, “No you need to know basic self defense Mr. sheltered King. You also need a geography lesson in the outside demographic if you wish to maintain grasp and victory in quite literally anything political.”

“Ugh, politics.” George groaned. 

“Aw poor baby, don’t worry I’m a good teacher, it won’t feel like that when I’m done with you.”

“I think you overestimate your abilities, how do you even know this anyways?” Dream sighed. 

“I lived in a kingdom for most of my life and my work had put me in a social standing with many royals and knights. I’ve been trained.”

“Huh, so that’s what Bad meant.” He expected Dream to ask about it but it never came. Eventually the blonde set the letters down, rubbed his temples, and blinked fast. 

“That’s enough for now, we’ll finish these later.” George hadn’t expected him to actually do anything worth while this early on. To be honest he didn’t expect him to do anything worth while period. “Make sure you’re up early tomorrow.”

A groan was pulled from George’s lips. “Why?” He moaned. 

“Because, like I said, you need to learn self defense and geography. We’ll be needing daylight. I’ll come wake you up if you aren’t awake at the right time.” George nodded and watched the blonde leave. When the door closed a sigh fell from his lips. He hated waking up early. 

Dream was quick to learn this. 

A quick tug of the sheets covering the large bed was what it finally took to wake the sleeping royal. He curled over on his side and groaned into his pillow, arms coming up to his face and knees curling into himself, trying to be as small as possible as Dream stood threateningly by his bedside. George kept his eyes closed, hoping to slip back into his restful state when he felt strong arms grabbing his legs and tugging him an inch lower, enough of a jolt to fully wake the man. He sat up in a rush and looked around before remembering where he was and glaring at the grinning offender. 

“Told you, we have to leave early.” George rubbed at his eyes with his palm and yawned while the other tore through his bedroom. George thought he would’ve minded more but the only thing he cares about at the moment is the sleepiness clouding his mind. 

The man throws a bundle of clothes at the King’s face. “Hurry and get dressed, we have to leave soon.” George nodded—still not quite sure what he’s agreeing too—and stood, walking over to the partition in the corner. 

It takes minutes longer than usual for the King to dress because of his foggy mind but Dream is already banging on the door for him to hurry as he finishes tucking in his blouse and grabbing his forest boots. He leaves his crown on the desk and grabs his goggles. The man has sensitive eyes. 

“Took you long enough.” The blonde hums, grabbing the king by his wrist and dragging him down the hall. The portraits on this hall are George’s least favorite, he feels like he’s being watched. 

As they half run down the hall George sees Sapnap and Bad’s old rooms. Ever since he’d taken Dream’s deal Sapnap has given nothing but radio silence to George. He hasn’t seen Bad since then either but he’s certain it has more to do with being busy then him being upset. The two went as far as to moving out of their rooms George had given to them and a part of it hurt but he also knew not to take it personally. 

They walk down the grand hall’s stair case and Dream leads them to the stables. 

“Ah wait, what about breakfast?”

“No time, we’ll eat when we get there.” George frowned, the man didn’t look to have brought a picnic basket but he held back his questions. Instead he unlocked the gate to the stable shed and mounted his horse. He watched Dream quickly introduce himself to one of the other horses before mounting it and trotting over by George’s side. 

“So where are we going anyway?”

“You’ll see when we get there.” Dream spoke, “if you can keep up that is.” His smirk rose and he shot off, the horse carrying him far into the forest. George quickly readjusted his grip on the reigns and darted after him. 

The wind whipped through his hair and the forest’s leaves crunched beneath the horses’ hooves. He could hear Dream up ahead and he knew he was getting closer from the sound of his laugh, euphoria clear in his voice. He saw the blonde slow to a trot and gaze with a wide grin at every landmark around him, eyes trained on the light refracting through the forest sky. It was then George remembered this was the first time the man has been outside since the day he was imprisoned. George thought Dream fit in better with the forest backdrop then he ever did with the cobbled walls. 

The sound of George’s grumbling stomach notifies Dream of his appearance and the royal fights back a blush. Dream looks apologetic and reaches up, picking a plump red apple and tossing it to the king. 

“Try it.” George is skeptical but after one bite he’s moaning, it’s so good. It’s the most sweet yet juicy thing he’s ever eaten. 

“Good right?” Dream chuckles. “They’re better the further from the palace they are.”

“Well that just doesn’t seem fair.” George said, mouth still full with his next bite. 

“Well, I mean. You work harder for it out here so I think it makes your troubles more worthwhile, better reward.” The blonde says as he slides off the back of his horse. He pets the horse’s mane as he scopes out the small clearing they’ve found their way into. “This looks good enough.” He says and George watches him grab two bows and a case of arrows from the horse’s pouch. 

“When’d you prepare that?” He asks. 

“This morning when his royal highness was sleeping in.” George frowns at the man’s snicker but ignores it for finishing his apple instead. He’s disappointed when he finds himself biting into the core. “Come on, the sun’s gonna set at this rate.” Dream calls even though the sun has barely began to rise in the sky. With a sigh George throws the core into the forest bushes beside him and climbs off his horse, following the blonde further into the clearing. 

“What are we even doing here?” He walks close behind the man and almost bumps into him when he stops. 

He looks back at George with a smirk, “Hunting.” George watches, puzzled, as he turns back around, setting his bow and shoots in the same second. George heard it connect with something that squeaked and watched in awe as Dream grabbed a rabbit. 

“How’d you do that?”

“Practice.” the blonde replies, tying the dead rabbit’s feet and throwing him over his shoulder like a bag. 

“What? How much?” 

Dream goes silent for a moment but mutters, “We used to practice as kids in a field,” Emotions flit across Dream’s face, George watches with avid interest, “We’d created a game called manhunt to better our skills, if only we’d known how predictable our future was.” He tries to piece together what the man could mean but when Dream’s hand touched his waist, all thought was lost anyway. 

“Hands off!” He yells and Dream backs up, hands in surrender. George hates being touched. 

“I was only trying to get passed you little king, no need to bite my head off.” Dream says, smile playful as he moves around the man and goes back to the horses to tie the rabbit to the stir. 

“You really shouldn’t be calling your superior such vulgar things.” George grumbles. 

“Then what do you propose I call you instead little king?”

“George is fine.” The man looks taken back for a split moment but then he smiles and nods to himself. 

“Alright George.” The word is new and unfamiliar on the man’s tongue and George only hopes he’ll stop with the insulting nicknames. He’s average after all, Dream is just freakishly tall. 

“So you brought me out here to prove you can shoot a rabbit, now what?” George asked. 

“Now,” Dream made his way back over to the brunette, “you shoot one yourself.” He said, holding a bow out to the king. 

“Huh?” George has never touched a bow in his life. How did Dream expect this to go anyway other than poorly? 

“Come on dont look at me like that, it’s not that hard.” George only glares further, not believing that statement for a moment. “Ok, here,” Dream strung the bow with an arrow and quickly searched for an animal to target. When he’d found one he gestured for George to come over to him. George looked passed the tree to see what he was looking at only to see a deer. Well, it was definitely an easier target. “Hold this,” George took the bow being shoved in his face and tried to remember how Dream had held it. It felt unfamiliar in his hands, and awkward. He heard the man snicker from his side and shot him a glare. 

“Don’t laugh, I don’t know how to do this.” He quickly sobered. 

“You’re right, here,” he stepped closer, “may I?” Dream’s hand hovered over George’s. He was asking permission to touch him. George nodded slowly, allowing the blonde to move his hand to the right position on the bow and his other arm came across his shoulder to help him hold the arrow correctly. Dream tapped his fingers once if his position was wrong and twice if the position was right but the grip was too strong or loose. His foot nudged George’s feet into a wider stance and his back shadowed George’s as he leaned forward to see the target from George’s view. George couldn’t help but be forced to remember just how tall the other was. “Alright keep an eye on the flat surface of the target.” Dream’s voice was loud against George’s ear, it was uncomfortable but George decided to ignore it and instead focus on the animal in front of him. “The deer is big but you want a fatal shot so it doesn’t suffer, if it’s not fatal then don’t worry we can still end it quickly if needed.” 

George breathed, he’d never taken a life before. But this was normal right? Survival of the fittest or the food chain right? His people are hungry and he’d have to feed them somehow. Hunting would be the only way. With a newfound strength he pulled the string taut. Elbow back and hand by his chin like Dream had instructed. And then he released. 

It missed. 

He felt disappointment pool in his gut but Dream didn’t make fun of him like he’d perhaps expected. 

“You’re lucky, the missed shot didn’t alert the deer, you can still try again. Here, this time aim for the ribs, focus less on a fatal shot and more on a debilitating one.” George took the arrow from Dream’s hand and restrung the bow, it took a moment of fumbling but then it was pulled taut by his chin again and he focused on evening his breathing. The deer continued its undisturbed grazing. George could feel Dream beside him as if he was a shadow of warmth and he took the shot. 

It hit!

A wide grin over took his face and he looked back at Dream only to see his smile mirrored on his face. 

“Good job!” He said and George felt that yes, he did do a good job didn’t he. He looked back to the deer, now lying on its side, the arrow through its heart. “Good shot,” Dream said, pulling the arrow out of the deer and turning its head with a quick crunch. “That was a fatal shot George!”

“Really?!” George could yell and scream and yip with excitement if he wasn’t afraid of scaring away the other animals of the forest. When George looks back at Dream tending to the animal he’s reminded of Sapnap and Bad and wonders if they trained like this together, he’s afraid to think about it. The thought of them being once so close and yet dragged apart due to something so, George couldn’t even think of a word to describe the situation. He just knew that if they would all be honest, their wouldn’t be an issue anymore. 

“Yeah!” Dream’s voice brought George back from his thoughts, “Great job on your first time, you’re a natural!” The flood of compliments coming from the man didn’t feel as unnatural as it probably should have. It felt comforting. 

“So what are we gonna do with the deer?”

“Take it back to the palace when we’re done and have the chefs cook it up. Might be able to donate some leftovers to the closest family.” George smiled, that sounded like a good idea. 

Riding off of the high from his first kill, George walked with a skip in his step as he watched Dream lug the deer back to the horses, throwing it over the back of one. 

“Now then, time for a geography lesson.”

“Ugh, nooo that’s so boring!” George groaned and Dream only laughed. 

“Boring?” Dream cackled. “Oh come on now, you have no idea how interesting it is outside of your little kingdom’s territory.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Surely you’ve heard of the monsters that spawn once night falls and the wisps of the enchanted forest?” George knew of the monsters but hadn’t heard a thing about wisps. 

“Wisps?” Dream gawked. 

“Come over here and sit with me, you have a lot to learn.” George rolled his eyes but sat on the log without another word. 

“Wisps are often described as little blue lights, almost fairy like, that appear as guides in the enchanted forest however, from experience, I can tell you that is not what they truly are. They are close in kin to the fae, tricksters and only there looking for one thing, entertainment. Some days their entertainment is leading a group astray and making them get lost in the forest for days or sometimes even weeks and other times it’s helping a group achieve their goal in destination for a price. They always want something in return. However, they are quite pretty.” 

“Huh, so they’re bad right?”

“Well, I mean I wouldn’t say that but, I wouldn’t want to anger one.” Dream says, “There’s a lot about the outside world that differs from here that I’ve noticed. You don’t get many animals in general. There’s an abundance out there that seems limited here. Not to mention you don’t get any night walkers here.”

“The sibling kingdoms say it’s because of the lights they hang around their territories. It creates a sort of ring so they just don’t come past.”

“Yeah but even that doesn’t make sense to me, the monsters sometimes just spawn, they don’t crawl out from the dark and I don’t see any of those special lights in your territory. I saw the golden lanterns as I was running through here but noticed they stopped at a certain point. So it doesn’t make sense why nothing would spawn here.” George thinks for a moment. 

“This kingdom used to be a prison.” Dream’s eyes widened. “There’s not many animals because they were all driven away during that time and they’ve slowly started to come back but they never enter pass the forest. I’m not really sure why.”

“Hm, do you think one of the other kingdoms would know?”

“It’s likely.” 

“Then the next chance we get we’ll ask, or” Dream starts. He’s giving George a look he doesn’t think he likes. “You could always just go through your stack of letters and answer them back and in turn ask them a few questions.”

“I thought we’d agreed we’d wait on that and dedicate a day to it.”

“Well, I mean.”

“No no! We’re waiting for that day, I am not spending hours sitting in that rickety chair and reading. I’d much rather let Bad talk my ear off.” If there was a change in the air George couldn’t tell, but he didn’t think Dream seemed too bothered by the mention of the man. 

“Hm, you escape this time but you’ll be forced to do it eventually.”

“As long as it’s not now that’s all that matters.” Dream laughed. 

“Oh look,” the blonde points at the sky, “it’s almost passed noon!”

“How can you tell without a clock?” Dream stared at George wide eyed before seeming to remember something and shaking his head with a smile. 

“You don’t always have a clock on you when out in the wilderness so you learn to use the sun to tell the time. Look closely,” he instructs, “you see how it seems to be in the middle of the sky?”

“Uh-Huh? Oh- I get it! It’s like it’s going on a clock but up and down right?”

“Yeah kinda, you can also tell the time by someone’s shadow.” George’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. 

“How?” He muttered and Dream couldn’t contain the hard wheeze racking his body. He slapped his leg and only laughed harder as George glared, “tell me!” He said, shaking the man’s arm, “stop laughing at me and tell me, you idiot!” Dream only laughed harder. “Oh my god you’re a dolt,” 

“S-says you!” He manages between his fits of laughter. George rolls his eyes and doesn’t satisfy the man with a response. 

“Whatever,” he finally says, “I’ll just ask Bad or Sapnap about it later-“

“I’ll tell you geez,” he says, finally getting over his laughter, “oh my god,” he says, letting out any leftover mirth in his chest. “Alright,” he says, sobering himself. “Stand with me,” he says. George looks skeptical but stands. “Now look down at your shadow, see how it’s close to you?”

“Yeah what about it?”

“That means it’s near the middle of the day and see it’s lean to the right? That shows it’s closer to the end of the day then the beginning. The end and beginning of the day will always have longer shadows but depending on the way the shadow is facing, whether you’re facing the east where the sun rises, it will tell you the time accurately.” George nods, stepping backwards, almost like he’s trying to avoid his shadow. Dream watches, amused. The little king, who figures out avoiding it is useless, then tries to step directly on it. Dream watches him struggle for a moment more, keeping his mirth to himself, before he suggests they end their day there. 

“Wait but then what was the point of waking up so early?” George asks. 

“Routine.” Dream says, walking back to the horses. 

“Huh?” George squawks. “You have to be kidding me!”

“Come on Georgie you can’t run a kingdom with a sleep schedule that allows you to wake up at noon.”

“I don’t wake up at noon.” 

“Not anymore you won’t be.” George rolls his eyes. 

As their horses walk in silence back, George notices something when the castle comes in view. 

“Can we stop somewhere before returning?” 

“Hm? Sure I guess, but where?”

“You’ll see.” The king grins. He grabs his horses reigns and changes the direction, heading to the side of the castle through the open hall that leads to the garden sitting peacefully in the middle. 

“What’s this?” Dream asks as George jumps off his horse, ties him to a beam, and walks toward a pile of weeds. 

“My garden.” He says. Dream looks confused but follows the man, leaving his horse near the same beam. 

The two stand in front of a small patch of green and red and a hint of blue in the courtyard in the middle of the castle. George kneels down, sitting back on his ankles, and touches a hand to a red spotted mushroom. 

“I enjoy it because it’s mine.” He says. “Not many things in this kingdom are mine. Not even the crown. But this,” Dream watches the man’s face light up, “this is mine. I built this myself and raised it. I don’t know any of the people or drama of this kingdom but I know everything about my mushrooms.” A calm smile rises to his face. A king and his mushrooms, what a random pair. 

The gentle patter of rain washes against the side of the castle and window in George’s room. He sits peacefully against his pillows on his bed and dog ears his book, saving a page on green amanita mushrooms, when Dream bursts into George’s room. 

He’s scrubbing his hair with a towel and looking like a happy dog. 

“Ah the simple pleasures of a freshly drawn bath after a day out of hunting, nothing better then that.” The blonde lays back onto George’s bed and the other grimaces. His sheets are going to be soaked, he’s sure of it. 

“You seriously have a problem with boundaries.”

“I know boundaries Georgie, you just have yet to set them. And as far as I know, your bed is free reign.” George was about to protest when the blonde’s stomach rumbled. “Speaking of free reign, is the kitchen free reign?”

George sighed and set down his book. He walked over to a line and bell by the door and rung it. Only a moment later a servant knocked on the door and entered when George let them in. Dream was surprised at the punctuality. 

“Just a soup and bread please.” 

“Yes your majesty.” 

“Wow, and that’s all day?” Dream asked, sitting up and crossing his legs until his hands are rested on his ankles. 

“Don’t get used to it after 9, they need to rest too.” 

“Got it, I’ll just sneak into the kitchen myself then.” George threw him a pointed glare. 

He rose his hands in a position of surrender, “Kidding!” He said with a chuckle. George rolled his eyes and grabbed his book before it got soaked by being in the vicinity of Dream. 

George let the man sit in his room til his soup came, then promptly kicked him out. 

“How cruel.” He muttered as he left and George sighed, finally alone again. The man’s clinginess was definitely something to get used to. He figured the whole arrangement was something to get used to but, he was certain it was for the best. He didn’t really know if he could trust Dream but a part of him trusted Bad’s judgement. 

“If there’s anyone able to run a kingdom, it’s Dream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust building lets goooo


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A king has to tend to royal duties George.”
> 
> “Like what?”
> 
> “Sitting on a throne and looking pretty.” The brunette rolled his eyes.

George had been planning on a day of full rest but sadly, his Knight and advisor thought otherwise. 

“A king has to tend to royal duties George.”

“Like what?”

“Sitting on a throne and looking pretty.” The brunette rolled his eyes. “That also means seeing the people who come to the castle, you can’t keep turning guests away.” George knew the man was right but when the familiar sound of heels against the red carpet rung across the throne room floor, he felt a headache start. 

George didn’t have to lift his head from his hands to know the person entering his palace throne room was none other then King Eret of the Avarie kingdom, a sibling kingdom to the east. Eret was by far George’s least favorite person, and it wasn’t because they simply lusted after the crown atop George’s head. No it ran deeper than that. His hatred for the King stemmed from his deep loathing of manipulative grins and honeyed words. 

Dream stood by George’s side, as his advisor, and his commercial smile slid onto his face as they entered closer. 

“King George!” The King greeted with a wide gesture of their arms, vastly animated as usual. 

“Eret.” George says, unamused and not afraid to let his tone show it. 

The king however is undeterred. “A new advisor I see, I’ve never seen this one before.” Their eyes rove over the man, silky palace shirt and fitted trousers as well as a friendly smile placed upon his lips. Eret can’t find a fault to complain about. 

“Your highness,” Dream bows briefly. 

“What brings you here?” George interrupts. 

“Oh well you see it’s a special occasion!” The King claps their hands and turns to the brunette. “I’m hosting a ball this Friday evening! I’ve come to invite you in person because I know you have an apathy toward these things and I strongly advise you consider this one.” Their grin almost seemed to turn feral as their eyes gleamed through the tinted glasses resting atop their nose. 

“And why is that king Eret?” George doesn’t bother to hide the boredom he feels, his distaste obvious and stifling. 

“Very influential people will be there and it’s best you keep up good relations with our brothers and sisters, you know what they say about you already.” George feels his lip twitch. “The lazy king who sleeps away his peoples’ lives.” George wants to cut their tongue out for their words but diplomacy is crucial when it comes to dealing with Eret. One wrong move and the King will wage a war and if there’s one thing right about that statement, it’s that George doesn’t have the patience for a war. 

“Then I’ll accept your threat and throw around the idea. You may leave now, I have a busy schedule today.”

“As you wish King George.” The king spun their skirt wildly as they turned on their heel and strode down the palace hall. As the sound of Eret’s heels grew distant, George’s annoyance left with it. 

“You’re not busy at all.” George can hear Dream’s grin shift to a smirk in his voice. 

“I know I just hate to see that bastard’s face.” He answers honestly, sneer tightening, and revels in the laugh that finally comes from the man. 

“So, are you considering it?” George throws a look to the blonde only to meet his eyes in a side glance. 

“Regrettably” He speaks, “I have too. He’s right. Other kingdoms talk of me and it’s dangerous. My kingdom’s been peaceful for a long time and if there was to be a war I’m afraid we’d lose.” George feels stupid and hates to admit such a thing but pride is cheap when it comes to the lives of his people, or at least he’d like to think it is. 

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.” Dream said, pride in his chest as he leaned against the throne. George had to admit he was taken back by Dream’s enthusiasm. He took him for a manipulative prisoner looking for an out or an excuse to kill George, not an actual royal advisor. “It seems this ball will be my first real day on the job so we better make it count.” The blonde says, fully sitting on the arm of the throne. George says nothing about it. 

“What do you mean?” He asks instead. 

“Well we have to change the other kingdoms’ opinions of you if you wish to run a successful kingdom, which means we have to make an impression.” George hums and then groans once he realizes. 

“Oh god, don’t tell me I have to socialize.” Dream began to chuckle. 

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying.” George slouches in the throne and hides his face in his hands. That’s the last thing he wants to do. Suddenly Dream claps his hands together. “Now’s the perfect time to go through that stack of letters!” George takes back his last statement, this is officially the last thing he wants to do. “We need to learn about the sibling kingdoms as much as we can anyways.” Dream continues, completely ignorant to the King’s suffering. George groans. 

Dream drags the suffering king through the palace hall by his billowing cape—a fancy and heavy thing that the blonde had forced the man into after saying something about royal duty. The windows are open and the smell of flowers from the courtyard permeates the golden air. The sun is hiding behind the trees and dusts gold shadows against the paintings of old rulers, men and women and everyone in between, cast along the papered wall. 

George was enjoying the silence, accompanied by their shoes walking alongside each other and the shined floors, until Dream had a question. 

“Actually,” he started, as if he couldn’t believe what he was asking himself or perhaps why he hadn’t asked sooner, “What’s your kingdom’s name?” He said, “I’ve never even heard it before.” George hummed to himself. That was a good question, he himself had almost forgotten its name. 

“Not many use its real name anymore,” he starts, “instead they call it the middle lands or some infantile insult.” He doesn’t feel the need to explain that the insults come more from his own kingdom’s villagers then the sibling kingdoms’, “It’s original name is Thaiven.” He finishes. 

The blonde hums beside him. “Thaiven.” He parrots, “I think I’ve read about it before.” That was surprising. 

“Really? I’ve never heard of a library that holds books written about Thaiven besides the old one that was burned during an incident years ago.”

“Really?” Dream said, “I could’ve sworn.”

“Maybe you swore wrong.” George’s lips quirked into a smirk and the blonde rolled his eyes, gently pushing against the others shoulders making his steps falter. 

When the two enter the king’s room, George yawns and falls back against his bed while Dream sits in the chair at the desk. It’s close to George’s nap time and the golden hour makes him want nothing more than a peaceful rest. 

It’s quiet for a moment, as Dream reads through the letter stack, and George slowly starts to fall asleep against his bed when a loud noise startles him out of his shallow sleep. He jumps up and Dream snickers. The blonde holds a gavel he’s found in his hand. 

George throws an unamused look at him. “That was just unnecessary.”

Dream clears his throat and hits the gavel against the desk, “The jury has decided your punishment king George.” The king raises an unimpressed brow, “you must read through this stack of letters from her lady and highness Nihachu.” George held back an eye roll at the proud look the man shoots him as he leans back in the desk chair, arms crossed and smile smug. Instead George sits up with a small sigh, unclips the heavy cape and listens to it fall to the floor in an unceremonious heap as he, now weightlessly, strides over to the desk. He sits against it, facing the blonde and holding out a hand, waiting for the first letter. 

“How un-kingly of you to sit on top of a desk, I thought you had more class.” 

“I’m going to sew your lips shut.”

“Well there’s better ways to go about that but as you wish, here’s the first letter.” It’s a soft rose color, it’s paper thin and smelling of rosewood, a signature of the Valura Kingdom ruled by Niki Nihachu. She’s been in power since her teens after her parents’ early passing, similar to George but she was raised to rule, George wasn’t. She writes in eloquent cursive, a handwriting George can barely read if it weren’t for his grandmother’s teaching, diligently drilled into his head, looping letters high in rise but small in size. 

“King George,” it starts, “I apologize for my lack of appearance at your coronation. I’m sure it was unseemly of me but I have my reasons. Instead I would like to make it up over tea this Saturday-“ 

“Already passed.” George says, throwing the letter into a basket to be shredded by the servants to escape forgery. 

“Well you could at least send a letter in apology.”

“What’s the point? That was in February, it’s late May by now.” Dream shrugged, handing him another letter by Nihachu. 

“King George,” she writes, “I hope this finds you well! I’m certain your new duties must keep you busy. If you ever need help feel free to request it. This upcoming Wednesday I am holding a ball for-“

“Passed already.” He crumbles it up this time and shoots it in the basket behind him. Dream hands him another letter but it’s paper is thicker and lined in gold. George’s lip curls into a sneer, he already knows who sent this one. “I thought you said this was Nihachu’s stack.” Dream shrugged and George narrowed a soft glare before turning to the offending letter. 

“My dearest George,” it writes and George wants to gag at the offensively affectionate title, “I am ashamed to say this is our first exchange through letter but I must say I am writing this in the carriage after leaving your coronation. I can see you will be a very capable king! Be sure to write me whenever you so des-“ George rips the golden paper and watches it fall from his hands into the basket behind him. Dream snickers into his hand and tries to cough to cover it up after seeing the glare he receives from the brunette. 

“Ok, here’s a different one,” Dream says, struggling to gain his composure. George unfolds the letter and Dream wheezes, clutching the arm of the chair he’s in. George’s glare hardens at the large looping disgustingly posh cursive all written in assuming real gold. Instead of pushing his new knight out of the chair he reads halfway down, hoping to get it over with. 

“I see you have been avoiding your siblings. In my personal experience I don’t recommend that.” George balls it quickly and throws it away, grabbing the next golden letter from Dream’s hands. His eyes skim the middle and skips the pleasantries and false compliments. 

“I don’t recommend that,” he writes, George remembers he’d been ignoring the king’s in person invitations for a while during that time, early March, “I only hope to help.” Eret’s signature looks agressive when George finishes it. He throws it away without another thought. 

“I don’t recommend that,” it parrots, “it’s foolish of you King George.” George grits his teeth. Another letter thrown another opened. The marked date is late March. 

“Do you plan to avoid every diplomatic function that invites you? I don’t recommend that.” Another crumbled another torn open. Early April. 

“Do you know your people are facing a famine? Or have you not left the palace? What will our siblings think? I don’t recommend rejecting my help.” A week passes in date.

“If you reject help who will come when you finally fall?” The next is late April. 

“You know King George, perhaps you’re struggling in your job? Do you need someone to lighten the load from your slim shoulders? I could perhaps-“ George doesn’t bother finishing it. The next is a day later. 

“If you’re incompetent just say so.” He misses the basket when he throws it behind him. The next is marked for May 4th, 2 weeks prior to today. 

“King George my dearest,” it starts, “your crown is too big for you.” Eret’s cursive suddenly looks biting and cruel. 

“That’s enough of their letters.” George was done reading these. 

“That’s all of their letters.” George looks up and sees they’ve in fact gone through two stacks full of letters from the Avarie Kingdom. Golden paper torn and shredded around the desk. The desk itself looks much emptier. 

“Good.” He says. He can feel Dream watching him but he doesn’t say a word. 

“What did they say?” Dream asks. 

“Hm?”

“The ones from Eret, you look like you want to bite your tongue off.” He says. He does, George wants to bite his tongue off at every word. How can he even begin to explain how offensive golden cursive looks to him all because of the king of Avarie? Most of them are passive aggressive comments hidden behind false concern and even a pushed in “if it’s too much to handle why don’t you consider handing over responsibility.”

“Why don’t you?” Dream says. George hadn’t realized he’d been speaking. 

“What?” George leered, scandalized by the mere suggestion. 

“Well,” the blonde starts, “didn’t you wish someone would take over for you?”

“Yes,” George hisses, his voice bites. “A capable king who was a citizen of Thaiven and would take care of the Thaiven people. Not a cheap flamingo skinned...” George goes silent for a moment, “what’s another insult for shady?” He asks himself before shaking his head. “Besides the point,” he ignores Dream’s snicker, “I’d rather die then let someone like Eret take control of this kingdom. It’s their fault Thaiven was used as a prison in the first place.” Suddenly Dream looked intrigued. “Thaiven was home to the night walkers, a spawner of sorts. It was used to help magic users gain experience from using the monsters’ limbs to make better gear and stuff. It was fine until they started throwing in human prisoners to feed and breed the monsters. It was cruel and Eret was the biggest supporter. Eret will do anything if it brings them money, power, or something shiny. I can’t let such a shallow person take over my kingdom.” George finishes, chest heaving from the breathlessness of desperation as he expressed his claim. Dream hummed. 

“You care a lot about Thaiven then.” He states simply. George looks offended. 

“Of course I do, it’s my home.” His tone rises, “It’s why I regret letting the famine get this bad, I just don’t know how to act like a real king, I never did.” Emotion seeped from his lips. George didn’t expect to tell Dream this but he didn’t see the use in hiding it. He feels a warm hand ruffling his head and his eyes shoot up, looking at Dream as the man gives him a far away look. He hadn’t noticed he’d stood or even walked closer to George. George had been about to bite the man but his expression stopped him. 

“Keep ahold of that care George, it’s important for a ruler to have. Being a king doesn’t mean power and responsibility, it means cherishing your people and doing your part to make living and being happy an easy commodity.” George slowly nodded as the man withdrew his hand before picking up another letter. George stares at the man’s broad back, confusion settling in his stomach for a moment before hunger takes instead. He decides to forget about the look as he rings a servant for dinner, it’s pointless to question anyway. Especially when he has a ball to live through. 

The sun had left long ago, chandelier lighting the room in a warm bath as the two men yawned. George rubbed at his eyes and threw another letter behind him, missing completely but too tired to care. Dream was slowly starting to fall asleep in the chair and if George’s butt hurt then he was certain Dream’s was killing him. George had never been a fan of the chair the other had claimed as his own, false plush back and wooden spines poking out of its feathered cushion. 

“Can we be done for the night?” George asked around another yawn. Dream tried to answer but a yawn was dragged from his lips as well. It seemed to be answer enough. 

“Fine,” he said, throwing away another letter, actually landing it unlike George. The king hadn’t seen him miss a throw even once the entire time they’d been here. Dream sat up and stretched his arms over his head, back popping and releasing before he let his now tingling arms fall back by his sides. George popped his own neck and moaned at the soreness of it. 

They’d managed to get through more than half of the letters, finished with the Avarie and Valura Kingdom but still needing to finish a couple from the Cuidan Kingdom and a couple from the villages post. George hadn’t realized he’d gotten any from the villagers but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Most had been asking for resources and answers to the their questions regarding the famine and the amount of power the guards had, George felt guilty just looking at the amount of them. 

“We can finish the rest of these in the morning, the ball is late in the evening tomorrow-“

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, were you not paying attention?”

“He said Friday-“

“Today is Thursday.” George couldn’t say he was aware of that, time felt like a social construct at times. 

The king grimaced, “Lovely.” 

“I’ve written a letter for the tailor that I’ll deliver in the morning for appropriate wear for us.” Before George could complain Dream continued, “there is a dress code, Eret sent it in this letter that arrived this morning before he came.”

“He sent a letter?”

“Are you surprised?” Looking at the crumbled heap of golden paper that filled two baskets and a spot on the floor, no, George couldn’t say he was very surprised at all. “I’ll handle all of the details, you handle waking up early enough to finish these letters.” George nodded, albeit reluctantly, and the blonde stood up, ready to retire for the night. 

“Thank you.” George mumbled as the blonde grabbed the door handle. He looked back at the brunette who refused to face him, instead cleaning the desk of excess golden glitter. George didn’t see his expression but he could’ve sworn he heard a laugh. 

“You’re welcome.” He said, and then shut the door behind him. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing out here?”
> 
> “Avoiding people.” George says, not bothering to remove his eyes from the solar system above.
> 
> “You and me both.” Dream chuckles and George looks toward the man.
> 
> “Really?” Incredulity clear in his tone.
> 
> The blonde smiles that comfortable smile he uses often and speaks, “Yeah,” he scrunches his nose, “I don’t do well with crowds for long periods of time.”

George had not held up his end of the deal. Though could he be blamed? He’s never woken up early on his own in his life. 

He expected to wake to the sound of birds tweeting and morning sky lights shining through his blue curtains but that had not been the case. He woke up instead with a start, his heart pounding once he realized the sound of birds was instead the sound of servants cleaning the halls. They cleaned the halls before lunch everyday. George had overslept. 

He tore off his sheets, rushing to change his clothes. He didn’t know why he was so panicked, was he that afraid of Dream finding out he woke up late? As he ran a brush through his tangled hair he thought, yes, yes he was. The advisor would most definitely make him finish the letters during any free moment that the king could be using for sleep instead. He stilled, the letters, he’d forgotten!

He set his brush down on the marble of his bathroom and ran back through his room, using the open archway to propel himself forward, rushing to the desk. He swept his hand across the desk, gathering the leftover letters, and shoving them in the first open drawer he found. He closed it with a huff of relief and went back to changing his clothes. 

He grabbed the new shirt that a servant had laid out on his bathroom counter and tore it over his head. The white fabric, lined with a light blue thread matched the trousers that had white thin vertical stripes, Royal colors as per-usual. 

He had just finished brushing his teeth when a knock sounded against his door. He looked up from the porcelain sink and turned, making his way through the open bathroom to the door. George opened the door and was met with a servant handing him a new letter. George wanted to groan but kept his composure. 

“Your Advisor awaits your company in the dining hall for lunch.” George nodded and watched the servant leave. Why didn’t he come to George himself? With a simple shake of his head, the brunette set the letter in his back pocket and closed the door behind him. 

The dining hall has always been immaculately clean, almost sparkling, but George still hated those muted red curtains hanging above each stained glass window. 

Dream sits, waiting, near the end of the table with a fresh plate of breakfast foods. George sits in front of him. The blonde looks up and takes a quick look over his appearance, If he notices his slight bed head he doesn’t say anything. Though George is certain that quirk of his lips wasn’t there before. 

Dream clears his throat into his napkin before setting it down, slightly adjusting his fork and knife with one hand before looking back at George. He never knew Dream wore rings. 

“So, I put in a request with the tailor today.” He starts, George listens as he eats. 

“For the suits?”

“Yes, she said they’ll be done later in the day because embroidery takes time when it’s custom.” 

George’s fork halts, “Custom?” George questions. 

“It’s a masquerade George, they have to match the masks and the colors we were assigned.”

“Assigned colors? Wait, it’s a masquerade?” George expects him to roll his eyes and get annoyed but he only smiles. 

“Yes, Eret is very particular about these things it seems.”

“Definitely sounds like him.” George grumbles, stabbing a particularly ferocious looking egg. 

“So,” Dream started, a smirk in his voice, “what did the rest of the letters say?” George stilled. He cleared his throat briefly. 

“Nothing important just invitations.”

“Those were from Cuidan right?” George nodded, not really certain but going along with it anyway. Dream hummed. “King Fundy.” he said, waiting for George’s response that was simply another nod and a particularly large bite so he wouldn’t have to say anything else. George heard Dream chuckle quietly to himself but didn’t press any further. 

The suits arrived in their respective rooms near the evening. It’s then, looking at the royal blue and gold embellishments, that George remembers he hasn’t touched the letters since he hid them. And as he sits in his room, finally getting down time to himself, he doesn’t plan on it. Instead he sleeps. It feels like no time at all when he’s awoken to knocking on his door and a very put together Dream. 

“I figured,” the blonde says, hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, “come on get dressed, take a bath first though. I’ll call a servant to fix your hair.” He instructs, ringing the wire on the wall. George nods and waits for the man to leave before walking over to the bath and waiting for the servant to come run it. They appear shortly and as he watches the small person fill the tub with warm buckets of water and petals with “royal fragrance”, he feels the remnants of the sleepiness from his nap. He doesn’t regret ignoring the rest of the letters. 

As George sits in the bath his mind is left reeling, fogginess of sleep long gone. He hadn’t expected Dream to be so, efficient. The man seems to be able to predict and handle each task they’ve been met with. The letters, Eret’s appearance, the suits for the masquerade, instructing the staff and servantsto fit the schedule George couldn’t even follow. It feels like he hired a real advisor. 

Suddenly a loud knock sounds on his door and a familiar voice shouts, “Hurry up your royal highness! You don’t get prettier the longer you soak.” 

George shakes his head with a grimace. It’s not like having an advisor at all, it’s like having an annoying Prisoner at his heel 24/7.He shouts back a quick insult at the man and steps out of the tub, uncaring of the spilling water. George throws a towel across his waist, brushes his bangs and hair back, throwing it over his shoulder, and practically stomps over to the door. He opens it, watching the blonde stumble as his shoulder now no longer rests against it. 

“Call for Olivia.” Dream looked momentarily stunned, face reddening before averting his eyes and nodding. George shut his door again and went over to sit and wait in his bathroom for his hairdresser. 

George didn’t know many servants by their names but he knew a couple and had made sure Dream did too. Olivia has been his hairdresser since he entered the palace and recommended he keep his hair long after she cleaned it up. He just never had the accommodations to cut it or keep it nice when he lived in the village so he’s used to keeping it tied with bands and never cared to run a brush through it. But Olivia was obsessed with his hair, almost as obsessed as Michaela was with the “royal color palette”. Michaela was the person responsible for his wardrobe. Dream had to have Michaela’s approval before asking the tailor to create the suit for George and even though he thought it was a little ridiculous he didn’t care too much about their pickiness as long as they did their job. 

Olivia entered quietly and walked over to the vanity George was sitting in front of. He’s still only clothed in a towel but George has grown far from being embarrassed when being half naked around his servants. And then he remembered, he opened the door and stood in front of Dream, half naked. Embarrassment bloomed on his face and he shook his head to try and get rid of the redness but was quickly stilled by Olivia’s hand and a soft glare in the mirror of the vanity as she starts to brush and gel the side of his hair. George sat in his shame for a moment more before Michaela walked into the room, silently fixing up the pieces of the garments to help George into the mess of clothes. He sighed, tonight was going to be a long night. 

The carriage ride over is silent save for the sound of the wind’s air and the horses’ hooves. It’s a long ride to Avarie and George’s feet feel sore already. He’s barely walked down the palace steps in the pointy toed things. He watches Dream scan the landscape outside of the carriage. Dream seems unperturbed by the formal and itchy clothes and George envies how comfortable he looks. 

He wonders what he’s thinking about, something calculating he guesses. But George realizes he isn’t really certain, he doesn’t know much about the man. It makes him think and wonder more about Dream. Who is he? How is he so perfect at every role he’s thrust into? Was he thrust into this? Will this really be beneficial in the end? What’s the catch? Then his anxiety starts to climb. He hasn’t seen most of the siblings since his coronation and he’s been avoiding them all. And not only will the siblings be there but other diplomats will be attending. Diplomats that George has also been avoiding. He wants to groan and fall back in his seat but the corset against his lantern sleeved blouse doesn’t allow for such movement. 

Dream seems to notice his annoyance and a small huff of a laugh escapes his nose. George shoots the man a defensive glare. 

“What?” He can’t help the aggression in his tone. Was Dream being condescending? Or was George just reading him wrong? 

“Your hair is quite long,” the man says, fingers taking gentle hold of a lock of George’s hair by his face. His hand is warm against him but the touch is brief and the man is already leaning back in his seat. “Not generally suited for combat.” He finishes and George blinks, shocked and confused. 

“You don’t think?” He crosses his arms and looks at the blonde from beneath his nose, a challenge. 

“No,” the man’s smile doesn’t waver. George doesn’t know if that means he’s accepted the challenge or not. “so why don’t you let me do the protecting.” 

“So you insult my hair and call me incompetent?” George wants to declare today a worse and worse day. And he has to put up with this man all night? He really hoped Eret didn’t join the mix, otherwise he might commit a war crime. 

“I’m asking you to trust me,” Dream rolls his eyes, finally showing some sign of emotion other than that stoic smile that never really says how he’s feeling. “when it comes to these dangerous situations.” The masquerade he means. Then George thinks. Eret is probably planning something dirty, maybe a way to bump him off and steal his crown without debate from the other siblings. Did Dream really calculate that possibility already? It should’ve been obvious of a conclusion to reach for George but Dream barely knew Eret so he couldn’t know how crafty the king is, unless he payed attention to their false compliments and pointed stares. 

George hums, hurt in his chest but next to it blooms something else. 

The palace ballroom is warm, golden lights licking every body in the large room. The walls are blue, a lighter shade than Michaela’s beloved royal, and it’s lined with gold as expected of the king. George let’s Dream lead him into the room as a Knight should, hand in palm. The other guests have already created circles of conversation and Eret is nowhere to be found. George is grateful for the annoying king’s absence but feels a new annoyance arise. 

“King George!” An unknown voice calls above the festive violin and piano duet. A flash of red hair lights amongst the crowd with his palm raised high, waving the king over. He’s standing next to a girl, a queen her crown tells, with pink dusted hair and George figures those are his siblings. 

Dream shoots him a look, smirk drawn on his lips, and George wants nothing more than to wipe it off his face. He settles with returning the side glare before allowing the blonde knight to carry him over to the sibling rulers. 

“King George,” Niki greets with a bow of her dress and George nods. “I heard your coronation went well.” George figured this would happen. Not having anything recent to talk about that included him besides the coronation that happened months ago but he figured that was mostly his fault for ignoring the letters. At least Niki was trying to be kind about it. 

“I’d say so.” He said. Suddenly, Fundy threw an arm across his shoulder. 

“Aye buddy! I haven’t seen you since your crowning!” George grimaced, the warmth of the man’s arm so close to him made him want to push him off but he had to remain civil. 

“Yeah.” George said, staring coldly at the man’s arm still draped across him. 

“King Fundy of Cuidan Kingdom,” Dream interrupts politely extending a hand offered to Fundy. The ginger happily accepts and shakes the blondes hand and George is thankful for his intervention and the newfound space from the King’s lack of personal boundaries. 

“Yes! And you are?”

“Dream, King George’s Knight and royal advisor.”

“Dream,” Fundy hums, “is that your Knight name?” He looks confused at the simple title but Dream doesn’t falter. 

“Yes, of sorts.” He responds. Fundy has been successfully distracted for the moment but George knows it won’t last long. He’s proven correct only moments later when Dream introduces himself to Niki and he regrets ignoring the rest of the letters. King Fundy is a character that George would have appreciated to know more of before hand. He spoke like they were close friends, making jokes that probably would have made sense if he’d read the letters. 

“So, bit of an interesting bloke eh?” Fundy whispers to George as if they’re kids at a sleepover and the brunette can’t mask the sheer look of annoyance on his face. It doesn’t deter the ginger king a bit and he continues to talk about Dream as if he’s some strange creature. “Is his hair always that shade?” George looks to the king in confusion, the ginger’s eyes still on Dream as he talks animatedly with Niki. 

George wants to slap himself. King Fundy is attracted to his Knight and advisor. He inwardly groans, if anyone can make a king attracted to them it would be Dream. The man holds himself like he’s never been rejected a day in his life and it irritates George more than he’d like to admit. 

“I don’t know Fundy,” the ginger perks up at the casual use of his first name, “why don’t you go ask him?” A bright smile overtakes the man’s face and he practically glows as he walks the short distance over to Dream. George takes this chance to retreat for a breath of fresh air. The night has barely begun and he’s already tired. 

It’s not long before Dream makes note of his absence. 

“What are you doing out here?” Dream’s voice seems to boom against the silence of the night compared to the loud orchestra inside. Dream had been caught up in conversation with Fundy for a second and when he turned the king was missing. But here he is sitting against the black backdrop of the night sky on the unlit balcony. 

“Avoiding people.” George says, not bothering to remove his eyes from the solar system above. 

“You and me both.” Dream chuckles and George looks toward the man. 

“Really?” Incredulity clear in his tone. 

The blonde smiles that comfortable smile he uses often and speaks, “Yeah,” he scrunches his nose, “I don’t do well with crowds for long periods of time.” The wind plays with his hair, almost tugging it out of its tie if it isn’t for the hand he places to keep it in check, “People exhaust me.” He finishes and George hums, he wouldn’t have guessed. He really didn’t know the man at all. 

It was silent for a moment. 

“I was curious,” George starts, “you said you worked in a position close to royal statuses but that doesn’t really explain how you know so much about being an advisor?” Dream looked at him then turned away. “In fact you could’ve just requested to be solely a Knight, I expected that before an advisor.” Dream laughed. 

“You wouldn’t have accepted the deal though. You didn’t need a Knight til now.” George hums. 

“True, so why’d you make the offer?”

“Well because I was obviously tired of the cell. And it’s only logical that I need some form of relationship with this kingdom that prevents me from being imprisoned by L’manberg.” George furrowed his brow, Sapnap had mentioned that too, but he felt there must’ve been something else. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” Dream turned to him, an unreadable look in his eyes. 

“Why do you wish to know?” There was something in his voice George couldn’t describe. “How much are you willing to know?” Dream stepped closer, towering just a bit above the brunette, George didn’t move away.“How far does this contract run George? I am your advisor but I’m still your prisoner.” George’s eyes widen. “If you don’t like what you hear then I can’t stop you from imprisoning me or even executing me,” George could feel the heat of the man close to him, a breath away, he wouldn’t have to reach far to push him back. And then Dream chuckles to himself and shakes his head. “No I’m being dramatic, there’s not much to my past” he says, his eyes don’t have that certain expression anymore, they look like they always have, collected and full of mirth. “But, I’m not wrong, how far does this contract go? Do I owe you vulnerability?” George realizes belatedly he’s expecting a response. 

“Well, I don’t know, I wouldn’t say you owe it to me.” Dream watched him for a moment, piercing eyes staring into George’s own. George couldn’t tell what he was looking for or if he ever found it as he takes a step back and, comfortable smile rising to his lips. 

“Then keep your curiosity and maybe I’ll share with you.” And then he retreats back to the party, standing at the side of the light and looking back at George, expectantly. George follows him inside. 

“My dearest King George!” He halts and tries to control his face as he turns to greet the king. Their hands are clasped in front of their dress and a sickly sweet smile shapes their face. “I’m so glad you could make it!” They chirp. “And your Advisor as well.” Eret’s tone changes over the sentence but George can’t be bothered to investigate it. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” George tries not to let the other know he’s gritting his teeth but from Dream’s glance he doesn’t think he’s hiding it well. 

“Oh I wanted to greet you before the waltz starts!” George’s face turns. Waltz? “I hope to see you dancing and perhaps I can save a dance as well!” 

“I don’t dance.” George says in a rush before he can even think to lie or make a better excuse. Eret simply shakes their head, curled hair bouncing gently. 

“You have to! After all it will be your first waltz with your Knight isn’t that right?” George’s confusion must have been obvious on his face because Eret started to grin. “It’s only natural that a Knight gets his king’s first dance. It’s tradition to every kingdom-“ Eret’s grin slimmed, a condescending looking thing, “I thought you would know as a king of your caliber.” His gaze is pointed, “Don’t you know this your highness?” He’d never heard of such a thing but, George knows Eret is testing him, and if dancing with Dream is what it takes to get the king off his back, then he’ll accept the man’s outstretched hand. 

The music seemed to start the moment their hands met, violin crescendos and smooth cello. George didn’t know the slightest thing about dancing so, reluctantly, he let the blonde lead their dance. 

“Did you know of this tradition?” George asked. Dream grinned. 

“I might have heard of it once before.” George groaned. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Instead of responding the blonde spun the king, hand warm on his waist as he plucked him back. The proximity was getting to George already. He’s never been comfortable with people being so close to him. He wanted this dance to end. His feet hurt and everywhere Dream touched him burned. He was annoyed by Eret’s presence and wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed and sleep. 

Dream seemed to notice George’s faraway expression bc the movement slowed, now simple steps and turns rather than the large box steps and spins. Dream rubbed his thumb against George’s hand in his palm and rose a questioning brow. George was grateful for the gesture, he knew he wouldn’t have heard him anyway. 

He nods and tries to a force a tight lipped smile to calm the blonde’s concern but all it does is make him hold him closer and just a little bit softer. George realizes why when he sees how crowded the middle of the ballroom has become, people dancing from every place he looked. It made him feel sick so he turned his head back to Dream and focused on the green and gold vest the man wore. He really wanted this night to end. 

“George,” the man flinched at Dream’s voice loud and warm against his ear. He must have had to lean it to be heard over the music, “can you handle a couple minutes more? We can leave appropriately in just another song.” George could only nod, afraid the room would spin if he looked up. 

Minutes felt long and the song finally ended. George looked up for the first time since Dream’s voice was against his ear and he was instantly met with a look of concern from the man. George ignored it and was happy to finally be able to leave when all of a sudden, as the two began to leave the ballroom floor, a cold hand touched George’s shoulder. 

“Excuse me for my intrusion,” the man spoke, long pink hair held back in a low pony along with a black and orange mask, “may I have this dance?” 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Huh? What do you mean? You really think someone purposely cut off the river like sabotage?” It didn’t make sense, “Isn’t that impossible?”
> 
> “Not with enough people and boulders it’s not.”

“Excuse me for my intrusion,” The man spoke, long pink hair held back in a low pony along with a black and orange mask, “may I have this dance?” 

George spared a glance at Dream, an unreadable look on his face, before turning back to the man who had decided to keep a tired and annoyed George on the ballroom floor. He wants to decline him. If he weren’t a king he might’ve slapped away his hand from the sheer anger burning through his chest at this moment but he’s reminded of his place at the sound of a new song starting. He’s a king and he’s at a diplomatic function, he’s not allowed to decline. 

George throws Dream another glance and the blonde stares for a second longer before nodding and taking his leave to somewhere nearby. George doesn’t really know where because the pink haired man has already grabbed his hand and pulled him into a waltz. Unease grows in his stomach and exhaustion reappears in his legs but he has to keep up diplomacy. 

“So,” George starts, “what may I call you?” The pink haired man grins, canines fully visible. 

“Sir Billiam your highness,” his voice is posh and it sounds almost fake but George has heard enough tongue from Eret to know it could be fully genuine. 

“Well then, Sir Billiam, what made you want to dance with me.” Something changes in the man’s eyes, something searing, like giddiness or mania. 

Despite his eyes, his voice is perfectly even as he speaks, “Trust me, it’s purely business.” Suddenly George feels something cold brush against his side. He realizes belatedly that it’s the cold tip of a blade and before he could even think to recoil, Sir Billiam’s wrist reels back by the force of someone grabbing it, twisting and knocking the unsheathed dagger away. George stumbled back into a warm chest. His head shot up and quickly met blonde hair and a pointed jaw, his expression murderous. 

“Technoblade.” Dream grits out, his voice threateningly close to a snarl. 

“Dream.” Techno’s voice lapsed into a monotonous tone that sounded familiar to the man. No longer exaggerated fancy talk. George cursed himself for ignoring the false accent he had wondered about. 

“Now what is the 1# ranked mercenary doing at a diplomatic ball such as this?” Dream asked, a laugh on his lips that held no mirth. 

“My job.” The mercenary replied. 

“I can see that.” George was starting to get uncomfortable in Dream’s hold, grip tight and bruising against his bicep. His back burned against his chest and he wanted to shove the man away but was far less amused at the idea of being closer to the mercenary. 

Suddenly, like a Knight in shining armor, Eret strode over and with a voice of disbelief he asked, “Gentlemen does there seem to be a proble- oh.” Eret stopped in his tracks as he watched the two glare each other down, the forgotten dagger laying by Eret’s foot, glinting familiar gold. 

“No,” Dream says, voice silky and smile back on his lips. “No problem at all.” He turned toward eret, arm still holding George in a tight grip, “Actually, my king and I regrettably have to retire early for the night. Wonderful ball King Eret, I wish you a splendid rest of your night,” Dream turned his head back to techno, “Sir Billiam.” He said with a tight lipped smile. Techno nodded and the two went. George let Dream drag him, hand slithering down to his wrist that raised his arms’ hairs beneath the silk of his shirt. He watched Dream’s back, walk brisk and heated, and as the cold air met his face he seemed to take a small breath. And then George slows to a halt at the top of the steps, Dream’s hand still holding his wrist. Dream finally stops and looks back, confusion replacing the rage that once set into his features. 

“Um,” George starts, “I wanted to- Um.” George stumbled over his words, eyes locked with the cobble. Suddenly, his eyes drew up and locked with Dream’s, his voice steady. “Thank you.” George watched his face turn to surprise. He was silent a moment and George wondered if he hadn’t expected to be told such a thing for protecting the king. George wasn’t certain he’d ever say it to him either if this situation hadn’t happened and Dream hadn’t responded the way he did. 

A calm smile rose to Dream’s lips. He says nothing but George knows it’s probably best, so instead he follows the man back to the carriage to make their way home. 

They part in the hallway, Dream going to his room and George entering his own. George sighs, finally able to unclip the heavy black cape on his shoulder and the gold pieces along with his crown, feeling heavier than it ever has. He throws himself against his bed and breathes in the scent of lavender linens and plush silk, soft against his smiling cheek. 

“Home sweet home.” He hums. He’s certain he was about to fall asleep when a knock sounded against his door. It was like all of the rage that seeped out of his body had returned. He quickly sat up, stomped over, and pulled the door open to reveal a frightening looking maid. 

“King George,” She started, “how many times must I tell you not to leave letters in your trousers! This could be important!” All anger left George in an instant, instead replaced with a feeling of child like guilt. He nodded and let the maid scold him for a moment more until she was finished and left him with the letter in his hand. He held it like it burned and tossed it against his desk. It must’ve been the letter he’d received that morning before he went to meet Dream. 

He wasn’t going to bother with reading it tonight though. Instead he undressed and quickly slid under his comfortable bedding and let the moon’s soft light lull him to sleep. 

In the morning he did the unthinkable, he woke up before dawn and it was the worst mistake of his life. The birds hadn’t even started to chirp yet and he groaned softly into his pillow, sound muffled by the white plush of it. His hair was a tangle of knots from sleep and leftover gel from the ball. He didn’t bother to care and flipped it as far away from his face as he could. He tried to bury himself back in his sheets and sleep but to no avail. 

Begrudgingly, he pushed himself up with the bare strength he had left in his arms from morning rise and stretched. He figured he might as well give some attention to his hair and maybe even eat breakfast. 

He stood from his bed and rung the wire on the wall while he made his way to his bathroom. A bath might be a good idea but he didn’t enjoy the thought of being wet so early and then having to deal with the cold afterwards. So instead he sat at his vanity and sleepily pulled at the knots in his hair. He was almost done when someone entered the room. George had originally thought it was a servant with breakfast but his mood dropped when he realized it was not. 

And he could tell this easily because not once has a servant placed their hands over his eyes and said, “Guess who?” George rolled his eyes as best he could behind Dream’s hands and hummed. 

“Oh I wonder, could it be someone insufferable?” Dream’s wheeze started in his chest and George quickly bat the man’s hands away to finish brushing his hair. 

“What are you doing awake so early?” He asked. 

“I could ask you the same.”

“I usually wake up this early,” Dream said, sitting on the counter of the vanity, “you on the other hand, do not. And it seems you’ve only just woken up,” he pointed to the loose silk sleep shirt and sleep trousers George wore, each a plain blue. 

“And I can tell you’ve been up for a while?” George said, pointedly looking at the cotton lantern sleeve and tight trousers along with what appeared to be riding boots. “Did you take a horse out this morning?” 

“Yeah, I was making sure Technoblade hadn’t been sent on horse back to finish the job.” George hummed before they both fell silent. Were they going to talk about it? What even is there to talk about? George had almost been assassinated but that was normal for kings. That’s why Dream was his Knight but, this wasn’t normal for George. He’s never been trained to be used to this. He’s never had an attempt on his life like this before. Was it embarrassing to say he still shakes at the thought? 

“You’re shaking.” Dream pointed out. 

“I hoped you wouldn’t notice.” George replied. 

“It’s my job to notice.” Dream said with a roll of his eyes. 

“Speaking of your job,” George remarked, “make yourself useful and hand me the letter on my desk.” Dream stood up from the vanity. 

“Another?” He asked, making his way to the desk in the other room. 

“Mhm, it has a village address.” George informed as Dream entered the bathroom again and retook his spot on the vanity counter. “Read it to me.” 

Dream opens the letter and clears his throat before starting, “King George, I write to you from my humble home in the village east to the palace, a quick trip from your home. An easier landmark would be to say I live next to the dried up river. Last night I was returning home and saw someone suspicious down by the river. Not many go there because it is dried but this person looked to be searching for something. I have not seen this person before and I know all of the villagers. I write in hopes you will tend to this issue and perhaps there might be more to the dried river than previously thought. There’s been talk in this village that it was sabotage.” George’s hand stilled, brush in his hair. 

“Sabotage?” He parroted. He’d never thought of that before but if the villagers were talking about it, it might just be a rumor to keep them occupied. But something felt off. Dream and George shared a look and the two stood, grabbing a couple of hoods before they left. 

George hadn’t walked through this village in ages. It looked different but also vaguely familiar, like a childhood memory. But what he should’ve expected were the glares from the villagers as he passed. Some whisper and others hide their kids with a scowl. George tries to ignore the hurt in his chest and continue looking ahead but he can feel Dream’s eyes on him and he really doesn’t want to be vulnerable with the man, especially not about this. He should’ve known, he should be used to this. This is his consequence for being an incompetent king. 

It’s easier to ignore the longer they walk and soon enough they’re stood in front of the landmark George had only heard of. This was his first time seeing it just as much as Dream’s. But He hadn’t expected it to look like this. 

It’s not just dried up, it’s completely empty. Void of any nature or growth that once must’ve sat in the river. It looks like a dug out path. 

“So this is the dried river you were telling me about.” Dream asked, clearly as confused as George. Shouldn’t there at least be algae? 

“Yes, it dried up about 3 months ago.” It wasn’t that long ago so what happened to all of the plants and fish carcasses?

“Where does this river come from?” Dream asked. 

“Just up and past Fundy’s kingdom, you met him at the ball.” George grimaced at the memory of the touchy king. 

“Right, Cuidan, to the west of Eret’s territory so this river is the border between them.” George blinked. 

“How do you know that?”

“I had a talk with Fundy about his land and Eret and listened.” George shouldn’t have been surprised, the king practically drooled over Dream, “It’s easy to make people talk about themselves,” he continues his rambling, “do you know we feel happy chemicals when talking about ourselves? It’s psychology really.” George tried to hide his surprise.

“No I did not.” Dream caught himself grinning and quickly turned. 

“Besides the point,” he says, “I think we know who did this.”

“Huh? What do you mean? You really think someone purposely cut off the river like sabotage?” It didn’t make sense, “Isn’t that impossible?”

“Not with enough people and boulders it’s not.” George watched Dream walk up along the river trying to see how far he could watch it go. 

“I think it’s time we have a little talk with them don’t you think?” George didn’t like Dream’s tone of voice, or at least he didn’t think he did, but another part of him was almost excited. It sounded entertaining. 

“With who?”

“You know exactly who.” Dream smirked. George’s expression dropped. Oh no, he’d really rather not. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You get what you give.” She said, her eyes like pointed daggers. “Your kingdom comes first, if you want food you feed them, if you want to sleep you give them beds fo sleep in, if you want freedom you give them freedom.” He understood her point he just didn’t know if he was capable.

George would rather it be anyone but Eret. But from the sadistic grin on Dream’s face he was certain it was the materialistic king. 

“We should head over now, I have a couple bones to pick-“ Dream starts, already moving. 

“Wait.” George grabbed Dream’s arm, “we can’t just run in without evidence and demand him to confess! What if he didn’t do it?”

“Then we look for more clues,” he said. 

“But what if it makes our kingdom a laughing stock!” George feels the anxiety building in his legs at the mere thought of Eret laughing in their faces. He’s so close to shaking that he doesn’t even realize he’d referenced the kingdom to being not only his but Dream’s as well. Dream’s expression falls and he turns to George. 

“I won’t let that happen.” George’s eyes widen and he looks up at Dream. “If it helps you feel better we can ask the villagers for clues before we leave.” George glances around, it’s barren near the river but there’s a couple houses spread out sparsely. He can imagine the glare he’ll receive and he doesn’t want to do that either, but he can’t do nothing. He wants to give in to the weakness in his legs but Dream’s hand now on his arm steadies him. This is why they call him weak and incompetent. He can’t even ask his villagers for clues about a possible war crime. 

“Ok.” George says, looking back up at Dream with a steady gaze. Dream smiles. 

“Good, now let’s start with that house over there,” he points and George follows. It’s a small hut looking house but there’s a row of crops on the other side and a tiny fenced area with a mule. 

Dream leads them to the front door and knocks. It’s silent for a beat and then the door springs open. 

“What do you want?” An aggressive looking woman demands but Dream’s expression doesn’t waver. 

“We wanted to know if you had any clues or intel about the dried up river.”

“You and who?” The woman then looks to his side and meets George’s eyes. She scowls at the crown on his head. “Your a couple months late little king.” The name feels belligerent, completely different from how it felt when Dream called him that. He quickly realizes it’s because Dream only meant to tease him, this woman wants to hurt him. He wants to be mad but he only feels guilt. 

“I apologize for my tardiness but if we could have your cooperation it would help immensely.” He’s almost proud he didn’t stutter. The woman looks less amused but she takes one more look at Dream and sighs, opening the door further and allowing them in. 

“It was three months ago,” she starts, “I was washing clothes by the river like usual and some kids were getting buckets filled for their families. It was normal, fish and plants and everything. Then the next day I went to go get the clothes hung dryin’ by the river and it was dry. There were dead fish and dying plants but the water was all gone.” Dream and George sat at the table she pointed to as she grabbed a kettle to start. 

“What happened to the fish carcasses and the dried plants? The river looked empty.” Dream asked. She stood there and stirred. 

“Villagers got hungry, kids got hungry. Started eating the dead fish and plants, some got sick, others died.” She spoke like it was the weather rather than lives. She must have been used to it and it made George feel sick. Was this really the kingdom he was born in? The kingdom he rules? This is one village out of many in his kingdom and yet he’s failed them so horribly. 

Dream’s elbow bumps into George’s arm and at first he thinks it was an accident, a byproduct of the small sitting arrangements and Dream’s long limbs, but he notices the look of concern the man tosses him every so often. George steels his features. He doesn’t like it when Dream looks at him like that. He doesn’t like feeling so vulnerable especially not to Dream. He doesn’t trust him like that and maybe he never will. 

“What else have you seen around the river?” George asks this time and the woman turns. Her glare has lessened and she seems pleased to hear George speak. 

“Just a couple days ago I wrote the palace, don’t know if you read it but I saw some guy by the river the other night. I only remember a date because it was two days before the diplomatic thingy majigg that King Eret was holding. The village girls were talking about it because some of Eret’s soldier men came through town just those two days ago. We were told it was for the ball and that you two had an agreement but before that I’d never seen anyone go near the river and after that I kept seeing figures around. Nothing changed to the river or nothing I could tell but it was just creepy.” 

“Your letter is the reason we’re here.” George said and the woman looked surprised. And then her expression softened, her glare lost. 

“Well, then I’m glad. If you can get this river thing fixed you’ll have saved this village at the least and maybe this famine.” The kettle blows and Dream offers to get it and let her sit down to talk to George. She accepts and sits in front of him. 

She starts, “King George I heard your story.” George’s eyes widen, “I know you weren’t raised for this, and I don’t know what it’s like to be a king in the slightest but I also know that the people come first. I know all about how you was raised in the village east from here. You were a country kid at heart but you still lived with your necessities met.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Word travels son,” she said, fiddling with a crack in the table, “but despite all of that I know royal life is a shock, but listen to me, If you want to live comfortably you better put in the work and share that. You get what you give.” She said, her eyes like pointed daggers. “Your kingdom comes first, if you want food you feed them, if you want to sleep you give them beds fo sleep in, if you want freedom you give them freedom.” He understood her point he just didn’t know if he was capable. She’s right, he wasn’t raised for this and was never taught how to be a good king. He’s never cared for anyone but himself living as an orphan and being taken care of by the guards of his home village. There was always free food from the market men who felt bad for him and always a soft cot from the taverns who once knew his parents. He’s never lived in poverty so he can’t relate to the villagers who scowl at him but he’s also never lived in royalty so he can’t be the king they expect of him. He’s just George, a guy who hates the muted color red and likes mushrooms. 

Dream sat by them again and brought filled cups with tea. George tried to pay attention to the change of conversation but he was stuck on what she’d said. You get what you give. But how does he give what he has? What does he have?

“George?” Dream stared at him questioningly and George blinked. 

“Hm?”

“We were right,” Dream says, “we need to talk to Eret.” George’s mood immediately worsened. 

The carriage ride felt different during the day. Trees looked thinner and the road felt less bumpy. Or maybe it was the fact George wasn’t wearing that stuffy corset. 

The sun glinted through the tinted curtains of the carriage windows and shone softly against George’s face. It felt warm. 

“Did you hear?” George asked. He wanted to know, how much does Dream know about him now? He glanced at Dream, the man staring out the opposite window. He doesn’t think he’ll get a response so he turns back to his own window and pushes down the feeling of anxiety, or maybe that’s embarrassment at even asking, in his gut. 

“She’s right you know.” George whips around to look at him. “You get what you give,” Dream finishes. George’s shoulders soften. 

“I guess so.” George replied. Dream looks lost in thought and George wants to ask. He wants to know what drags the man’s attention away every so often. Why he goes on rides early in the morning. What he meant when he told George to keep his curiosity. George wanted to know everything about Dream and it scared him. He’s never wanted to know so much about anything other than his mushrooms. Is he really that bored? 

Or maybe it’s because the man is so mysterious. He’s open yet guarded, a seemingly perfect oxymoron. George can’t figure him out though he doesn’t try hard. He takes what the man says and believes what aren’t obviously lies but beyond that he doesn’t try to dig. He doesn’t inquire. Instead he absentmindedly wonders and hopes he will learn more. 

The carriage stops with a halt and a horse’s whinny. Dream’s gaze shifts to George for the first time during the trip and George suddenly feels uncomfortable. Why?

He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t and George watches him leave, holding the carriage door open for George behind him. George follows and doesn’t inquire. 

George can’t figure him out though he doesn’t try hard. He takes what the man says and believes what aren’t obviously lies but beyond that he doesn’t try to dig. He doesn’t inquire. And that’s how it will be. 

Eret’s castle looks different in the daylight as well. The gold is warmer and the blue is shining. The floors are lined with gold and marble and it’s the first time George has noticed. He can only see the gold from the glint of the sun’s shine. Eret’s throne room is similarly adorned, gold at every corner and blue as its backdrop. The long rug is a deep cerulean, George thinks, and at the end sits the king with their crown of gold and their head in their hand. Their legs are crossed comfortably and their posture only opens at the sight of Dream and George. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure my friend! And Dream.” George didn’t miss the side eye Eret gives him, he’s certain Dream doesn’t as well. 

“We need to talk.” George barrages on. 

“What about?” They ask, innocent and sickly sweet. 

“The dam you built.” Dream says, blunt as ever, though George was planning on saying the same thing. 

“Hm? I’m afraid you have me confused.” Eret blinks largely, doe like. 

“Cut the shit,” Dream scoffed and George almost flinched. Well that was, blunt. “we all know you hired Technoblade to kill George at your masquerade.” Dream finished, smirk on his lips and posture comfortable in his lean. Eret sighed, uncrossing a leg and shifting to a new crossed position, now pointing left. 

“I knew I should’ve payed extra to have Dream taken care of separately.” George’s eyes widened. He admitted it so openly. “Well, what do you want then?” His tone was callous and void of its usual faux warmth. “I don’t expect you of all people to wage a war on me and my kingdom, we all know how that would play out Georgie.” Eret’s tongue licks venom over George’s name. 

“No,” Dream interrupts, “that’s not what we’re planning.” He said, taking the lead. George found he didn’t quite mind letting the man talk for him, their ideas were similar enough. “In fact, I don’t think the other kingdoms would be too happy to learn you’d used such a dishonorable way of claiming George’s throne. After all doesn’t your sigil stand for honor?” Eret seemed to sit up a bit more in his seat. George blinked, was this true? He’d never asked or even thought to question. 

Eret was an old friend of the royal families, well respected and raised by the three kingdoms to simply be great. But George had always known not to trust him because of the snakey way he talked. George had never actually delved into the man’s past or kingdom sigil for that matter. George doesn’t inquire. It’s too much of a bother. But Leave it to Dream to learn so much at a single masquerade just so he could humiliate someone and laugh about it to their face. It almost made George want to laugh himself. 

“So why don’t you unblock the dam and both of our mouths stay shut?” Eret seemed to think for a moment, heel tapping restlessly. George couldn’t imagine the man agreeing so easily to something like that. It seemed unrealistic. Surely he had more pride then that? Eret was an opportunist. A person who would take what they want when they want it at the earliest point they can get it. When they see an opening Eret goes for it. It was how he was, surely a man’s personality can’t change so quickly?

The two waited for the King’s answer. It came in the form of a sigh and then a hyena cackle. “Ah,” Eret drawls, “your knew advisor is good King George. I applaud you. I look forward to our next chess match if I get to play against this one.” He sighs dramatically between his words, “Yes, I will accept your peace treaty of silence and I will unblock the dam. God, how humiliating.” George’s jaw could’ve dropped to the floor if he had a centimeter less of the dignity he possessed. And when he looked to his side Dream was absolutely beaming. It was almost dog like. The smile he received afterwards almost looked like he was saying, “did I do a good job? Tell me I did a good job!” And George couldn’t deny it, so he huffed a smile and watched Dream’s widen. 

The carriage ride home was silent but George‘s cheeks were going to be sore if he kept smiling like this. They did it. They actually did it. After the dam is gone the water will be back and the village will be able to have food. He did something right for his kingdom. He should’ve known Eret had something to do with it but he finds he doesn’t care as much as he’s relieved that it’s finally been resolved. 

“What are you thinking about?” Dream’s voice dug George out of his mind. 

“Hm? Oh just about the village and the dam.”

“Mm, I did good huh,” George wanted to laugh, he called it. 

“Yes I’d say so.” Dream nodded and his smile looked painful. “Then what comes next?”

“Hm, I’m not sure. Isn’t that what you’re here for?” George questioned. Dream hummed to himself in thought. 

“We’ll have to go back to the villagers again but this time we’ll have to see more.”

“Like what?” Dream turned to George. 

“The slums.” George’s eyes widened. “If you want to fix your kingdom you need to take care of your people, all of them.” George nodded, he was right. 

“Then that’s our next course of action.” There was silence for another moment until, “how long do you think it’ll take Eret to break down the dam?”

“Pfft, once he’s done with his little temper tantrum, I say it’ll take a week at most, his prides on the line.” 

“Hmm,..” George couldn’t help it, “pfft-“ it was like a fit of laughter attacked him, racking against his chest until he was left with nothing but tears and chuckles falling from his lips. He could feel Dream’s eyes on him and wondered if he was staring at him like some madman, he’s sure he looked mad. He’s not sure he’s ever laughed this hard before, or maybe it’s just been a while. Whichever one, he’s grateful for the feeling of warmth through his body. 

When they return to the palace it’s golden hour. A lovely hue through the palace hall, despite the tiredness seeping into George’s shoulders. Who knew one could solve a famine in a day? 

“I just noticed,” Dream spoke, interrupting the calm silence. The two were strolling down the castle halls, open windows causing the sun’s rays to light everything it touches. “Where are all of your guards and servants, I’ve only met the same few 4 that come around every so often, do you even have a cartographer?”

“No? I’ve no need for one.” George said. 

“No need? You don’t need royal courtships and counsel to you know handle the public’s demands?” Dream seems cell shocked at the mere suggestion of having so little help. 

“Well we used to before the assassination, then they all quit when I became king.”

“Assassination?” George’s lips grow taut. Does he really want to discuss this with Dream? He throws a glance to the blonde waiting patiently. 

“Perhaps another time” he says instead. 

“Alright, so we need more staff.” Dream lists on his fingers. 

“I suppose.” George’s voice falls short of excited. 

“Oh come on George,” Dream says, his tone playful, “if you don’t want to interact with people you don’t have to, they work for you, you just send them away. Wait if you don’t have any staff besides the 4 servants then who’s the one who cooks all of our meals?” George stops in his tracks. 

“Oh, that would be Ranboo, he’s the last of the cooks who didn’t leave but, he’s a bit skittish, you won’t see him and he prefers it that way. He also has a memory problem so even if you do see him he most likely won’t remember you unless he writes it down.” 

“Oh, I see.” Dream blinked. 

“Yeah,” George hummed, “my ideal kind of person, out of my business.”

“Hm- wait- hey!” Dream sputtered, “That was a jab at me wasn’t it?” George let his lips quirk into a smirk as he threw a glance at Dream from the corner of his eyes. Dream met his gaze and George looked away with a smile. 

“Maybe,” he said. 

“Ok call me clingy all you want but you need me like this,” 

“I don’t know Dream, need is a strong word.”

“Oh come on!” The two shared a laugh down the castle halls. Yes, golden hour was a lovely time. 

When George reached his room and was finally alone, golden hour had long since passed, blue now taking the sky. He closed his door softly with a click and leaned against it momentarily, sighing to himself. Is this how it would be from now on? How much more was there to do? Would it be this easy? He hadn’t expected Eret to agree so quickly but Eret is a king who stands by his word and his pride. A famine won’t. Just because the dam’s being taken down it doesn’t mean food will instantly pop up. It needs to grow and season can’t come quick enough. 

Being a king was difficult, he always knew this, but actually doing it felt more tiring then he anticipated. George practically stumbled over to his bed before he noticed something on his desk. A letter sat neatly on the wooden top and he momentarily thought of burning the desk itself simply to avoid any more letters but he quickly throws away the thought. Instead he heaves himself up and sits in the uncomfortable chair. His mood significantly brightens when he sees it’s from Bad. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I got a letter from Bad last night.” Dream’s hand stills. “He wants you to talk with him and Sapnap.” Dream remains silent and as George looks up and sees his expression he suddenly feels this will be a much harder request to fill then he first thought.

The letter’s paper is soft and as George reads it he feels himself calm. Bad has that effect on people. His greeting is kind and his request is easy enough he assumes, so with a new goal set in mind he sets the letter down and heads to bed. 

He wakes sometime before lunch and goes through the motion of fully waking up. He can’t remember details but he remembers he’s seated in the dining hall in front of a completely awake and functioning Dream. It’s then that he also remembers the letter. 

“I got a letter from Bad last night.” Dream’s hand stills. “He wants you to talk with him and Sapnap.” Dream remains silent and as George looks up and sees his expression he suddenly feels this will be a much harder request to fill then he first thought. “Dream?”

“Hm?” George watches him take a large bite, so he doesn’t have to talk, and sighs. 

“You can’t run away from them Dream.” George starts, “They’re your friends and they deserve an explanation.” Dream sets his fork down. 

“I know- I know but-“ Dream stammers and then it occurred to him. 

“You’re scared.” George blurts. Dream doesn’t reply and he doesn’t have to, George knows he’s right. “These are your friends from childhood Dream.” He’s staring at a spot on the table, “Sapnap was more upset that you didn’t trust him. They’ll accept the truth and they’ll forgive you.”

“But you know the truth,” Dream says, “how will they believe that?” He sounds anxious and George almost forgets it’s a common feeling for people. Dream always seems so well put together, like nothing can reach him. But it’s obvious that this does. 

“That what, some novel writer told you to ditch them? I’m still confused on that bit but if you’re honest I know they’ll forgive you.” Dream sighs but George knew he’d reached him. 

“Ok, we’ll meet them this afternoon.” George almost choked. 

“So soon?”

“Yeah we have stuff to do afterwards so we can’t drag this out.” George pouted. He wanted to sleep this afternoon. Dream snickers. “You can have time for sleep later.” George blinks, how’d he know? Was he that easy to read or had Dream just become trained to his thoughts? “Come on, we have guests to prepare for.” Dream said, rising from his seat. With a sigh, George followed him. 

George had written to Bad shortly after lunch and the man had written back quite excitedly. George was grateful for the royal post or else they might have had to wait days for the letter to send, and then George remembers his nap he has to schedule. Maybe he’s not so grateful for it after all. He shakes the silly thought from mind and sets Bad’s letter down, they’ll be arriving soon. 

George now thinks to himself that soon felt too soon. 

Sapnap has a permanent glare on his brow. Bad looks nervous but happy to see them. 

George feels suffocated by the tension. 

The tea starts to grow cold on the table from being untouched. George and Bad are the only one’s conversing as Dream and Sapnap sit silent. George sighs. 

“Get over yourselves and talk it out.” He groans, ignoring the flinch the two share and Bad’s gaping. “You’re suffocating everyone.” He finishes, finally taking a sip from the cold tea. 

Dream looks to George and he looks back. As they share a look, George’s eyes search for something. Fear? Insecurity? Anger? He only finds yellow. And then he closes them and sighs, turning to Sapnap. Sapnap and Bad look confused by the moment but say nothing. Sapnap steels his jaw and speaks first. 

“You’ve been living pretty comfy it seems.” George sees Dream’s jaw tighten. Probably not the best thing to say, George would admit. 

“You would know,” Dream remarks, “you’ve been living in this kingdom outside of bars longer than I have.” George feels the room’s air grow thicker and he wants to cough to lessen it but he knows it would only make it awkward. 

Sapnap’s brow tightens, “Ok smart ass, why don’t we cut to the chase.” Bad looks like he wants to scold Sapnap but stays quiet and grumbles to himself as he sips his tea. By the revolted look on his face he knows it’s probably cold too. 

“Shall we?” Dream challenges. George wanted to smack both of them. 

“Why did you steal the egg?” George watches Dream’s jaw tighten. He was worried this would happen, Dream growing scared and not saying a word. Shutting down as Sapnap had once described it. But luckily Sapnap seemed to know how to get through to him. 

“You abandoned us!” George just wished it didn’t involve yelling, his ears could only take so much, “Bad almost died trying to get to the nearest kingdom! We had been in the middle of the dark forest why would you do that?” Sapnap seemed to watch Dream for any change in demeanor but soon lowered his head. George doesn’t know what he saw, “in the end we never finished our job,” he continues, “L’manberg’s king almost had us executed but he let us go on the warrant that we’d find you and capture you.”

“Lmanberg’s king? Why would you-“ Dream sat up, back rigid. 

“Because we had no other choice!” Sapnap snapped, “You left! We were close to dead!” The room fell silent at his outburst. Bad looked between the two, unsure of who he should console or if he should console at all. 

“I was scared.” Dream whispered. If it hadn’t been silent he wouldn’t have been heard at all. The small comment seemed to break something in Sapnap. 

“We’ve known each other for how long Dream?” his voice broke. “Our whole lives! We were all we had since we were kids and you thought we wouldn’t trust you?” Dream stared at his hands in his lap, “If you had told me a fucking birdie said to run from a massive kingdom we would’ve packed our bags together and ran!” His head snapped up. 

“I know, I messed up. I- I own up to that now, you deserve more than an apology.” He stammered and Sapnap interrupted him. 

“Dude fuck that apology just get over here and hug me!” Dream’s eyes widened but Sapnap was already standing by his chair and pulled the taller man into his arms, crying into his shoulder. “I forgive you, you dumbass, but don’t ever go lone Wolf ever again dipshit!” 

Dream put his arms around Sapnap and held him, nodding against his head. The height difference made it look ridiculous but to George’s right he heard Bad sniffle. His eyes shown with relief and he jumped up to join the hug. 

“I’m so glad we can all get along now! Don’t you ever leave us again you muffinhead!” George watched the trio ruffle each other’s hair and hold each other. It was strange, this feeling in his chest. Was he jealous? He can’t understand why. He’s used to being on his own and he’s never had a real pair of friends before so why is he getting jealous over such an uncomfortable looking position. 

He tried to turn away to dispel the feeling but suddenly he felt his arm being pulled and he was thrown into the weird group hug. He quickly looked to see who grabbed him and met Dream’s eyes. He smiled softly. George didn’t have time to question before Sapnap started to crush his ribs and Bad’s snot started to smear against his shoulder. 

“Ok ok that’s enough touching!” George shouted immediately pulling away from everyone. The two chuckled and Dream ruffled his hair to mess with him, gaining a glare from George. “Quit it Dream!”

“Aw is little Gogy all flustered?”

“Gogy?” George questioned and Sapnap cackled. 

“He said Gogy! That’s your new nickname George! Gogy!” Bad quickly smacked Sapnap.

“No making fun of Gogy- I mean George!” Sapnap only laughed harder causing Dream to wheeze. George watched the three interact. Suddenly that bad feeling in his chest wasn’t there anymore, instead it was replaced with a warm fuzzy feeling. 

You get what you give echoed in his mind. 

Was this the payment for his actions? Does he get to keep this? These new friends and this new fuzzy feeling? When Dream met his eyes, full of mirth, he really hoped so. 

Bad and Sapnap didn’t move back into the palace. Instead they returned to the tavern they’d been staying in in the nearest village. George had tried to ask why but he never got a straight answer. However, in the end it seemed to work out because Bad was able to give updates on the river and famine situation. 

They’d expected it to take a week at most for Eret to take down the dams, but It took only two days. George had received a short letter saying, “I’m a person of my word,” the day before the confirmation from the King. 

“It seems like the rivers are returning to full stream.” George remarked, thumbing over the letter and rifling to pick up a new one on the small table beside his seat. 

“That’s good.” Dream murmured from in front of George. He moves the rook. Daylight baths them in a bright blue hue, lunch had just passed.

“You could at least pretend you’re paying attention.” George pouts, slightly kicking his shin beneath the table. 

“Huh?” His head snapped up and he moved his leg back, crossing it instead, “I am” he defended, “but I wish you’d pay more attention to our match.” He gestures to the chess board. 

“I am!” George remarks, “See that’s why I’m winning.” He smirks. 

“You are not.” Dream whines, disbelief taking his features as he looks back at the board. 

“Oh yeah?” George raises a brow and moves his queen, “then why is that checkmate?”

“Oh come on!” He groans, “You always win at bullet!”

“Ah ah,” George holds up a finger, “you mean I always win.”

Dream leans back in his chair crosses his arms. “You wish, I just never have long enough time to think in bullet and you play this one more than me.”

“My mom enjoyed bullet chess a lot.” George says. 

“See? That explains it.” Dream says with a large arm gesture. 

The smirk returns to George’s face, “Explains why you’re such a sore loser?”

“Oh come on.” Dream drawls. George simply sits back in his triumph. 

“What, you Bad and Sapnap never played before?” 

“We played normal chess,” the blonde huffs, “and I always won,” he seems a little lost in thought at the mention of the two, perhaps in a good memory from the soft smile on his lips. George wonders what the memory is of. Why does he want to be a part of it? Then he thinks, Does he have any good memories of chess? His mom used to teach him at the table and his dad would stare at her with that loving expression. They had a love George has never seen since then. 

“What are you thinking about?” Dream asked, gaze searching and curious. 

“Hm?” He hummed. 

“You’re smiling.” George checked his face, his lips had a slight upward tilt, he was.

“Nothing just a memory.” He mumbles. 

“Tell me about it.” Dream says, an expectant look in his eyes. 

Does he really want to share such a thing with Dream? Then he thought, maybe if he shared then the other would too. And maybe then his weird curiosity would be satisfied. 

“It was about my mom and dad.” He starts, and he feels his smile grow. Has that always happened when he speaks of them? “Mom loved to play chess and she would teach me every strategy she had. Dad would watch, compliment her at times and tease her at others. They adored each other more than anything.” George suddenly felt self conscious. Dream probably didn’t want to hear about how much his parents loved each other, that was weird right? But when he looked up Dream had a calm smile on his face, a look of intrigue in his eyes. He looked happy to be listening and it calmed George’s nerves. Perhaps it wasn’t weird. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people love each other like my mom and dad did.” George finds himself saying, “it was... reassuring I think.” He finishes. Dream hums. 

“Sounds nice.”

“It was.”

“What happened to them?” He expected this question but he didn’t know how he’d feel after saying it. 

“They died.” George doesn’t know what he expects but Dream looks at him with sympathy and it feels better than an apology for something that wasn’t his fault. He doesn’t know why but he wants to continue, “we had been going through a war.” Dream’s eyes widened, “we don’t get many but this one was because of a kingdom we’d been forced into an alliance with, but I don’t really know too much about it. I lived in the countryside with my parents and I was so sheltered that I didn’t know a war was even happening. I was young, maybe 8, when my dad was drafted. He refused so they refused to feed the village. We were all on strict diets because of the war. This kingdom has never handled them well it seems.” he laughs to himself but it’s empty. He’s never talked about this before. “I’m sorry this is depressing.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind listening.” George looks up to see he’s telling the truth. He looks content to just listen to George no matter what he says. No matter how uncomfortable or how depressing. It makes him feel something he can’t describe. When was the last time someone listened to him so earnestly? Was there ever a time after his parents? 

“What happened next?” Dream asked and George suddenly wanted nothing more but to tell him his life story. 

“They died,” George winced, “the war had apparently been over for a long time and no one had told the villagers because it was an easy excuse to control them. I wandered the village as an orphan for a while. People knew my parents so they were kind. They fed me and gave me a bed when I needed it and when I didn’t want to see them I’d go into the forest nearby and I’d watch the sunset. It was a lonely childhood but I was taken in by an orphanage a year later. They taught me to read and write better than my parents did and I learned basic history. I grew up in the orphanage until 19 but I still stayed. I helped the kids and the cooks even though I burnt everything I touched and made every child cry.” Dream laughs a short puff and George finds a chuckle in his chest as well. “I was told of my relation to the palace when I had just turned 24 and the old family was assassinated. They thought all royal blood had died but they were wrong. Sometimes I wish,” he chokes himself back, can he really admit this? He looks at Dream and he only looks encouraging. “Sometimes I wish I was never related at all. I never wanted to be king.” He has enough pride to still the tears threatening to bud his eyes. Dream seems to understand. He doesn’t know how but Dream seems to always understand. 

“It’s not your fault.” He says. George doesn’t know what he means. “The famine.” George’s heart stops. “You weren’t trained to be a king and the famine was created by Eret, a war crime. There’s nothing that makes it your fault. Some may say you were selfish or foolish to leave it alone and ignore it for so long but you were scared and that’s normal. Doesn’t mean it’s right or wrong just doesn’t mean it’s your fault.” 

He thought he had more pride than this but here he is, crying in front of someone who was once his prisoner. Dream doesn’t look surprised or alarmed, simply steady and reassuring. How? George thinks. How can Dream be so perfect in every situation he’s thrusted into? How does he know each word to say? How does he know each step to take? How is he so competent compared to George? 

“Here,” he holds out a handkerchief to George and he takes it but he doesn’t use it. He simply looks down at it and lets the tears fall onto his hands. He hasn’t cried in a while and he should feel ashamed but he doesn’t. He doesn’t really feel anything, it’s just comfortable. The silence Dream gives him is comfortable. He’s not doing anything special besides sitting there and letting him cry but it seems to mean so much to him and George doesn’t know why. He doesn’t feel judged, he doesn’t feel embarrassed, he’s just crying and it feels ok. 

Soon the tears stop and he takes a breath. His nose is clear and his face feels softer, he feels refreshed. Dream is still there, watching him, calm and steady. George doesn’t know where to go from this but it doesn’t feel awkward like he’d expected it would. So he doesn’t treat it as such. 

“I think there’s something we forgot to calculate.” He says. 

“Like what?” Dream asks. 

“There are multiple rivers.” George remembers. 

“There’s more dried rivers?” Dream’s brow rises in disbelief. 

“Yes,” George sighs, leaning back in his chair and twisting the cloth in his hand, “I assumed Eret had unblocked those as well but I haven’t received any letters from those villages giving confirmation. We can’t be certain if Eret has really unblocked them all. We have confirmation from Bad from the village he’s staying at and another village I had the guards check on parole but there’s a northern village a little farther from here that we haven’t checked.”

“Then we’ll check it ourselves.” Dream says simply. George goes silent and Dream notices. “What? What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve left these people to starve for a long time Dream,” Dream’s eyes soften, “they won’t be happy to see me. Last time we didn’t have to talk to many locals and we were lucky the one we talked to was so cooperative but, this time-“

“You’re afraid they’ll riot.” George nods. Dream is silent for a moment and it only makes George’s anxiety feel worse. “Well it’s a good thing I’ll be there.” 

“Is that your answer for everything?” George says, aggression rising in his tone that he hadn’t meant to put.

“Why not?” Dream didn’t react to it. Calm and steady. 

“Why not?” His disbelief grew, “What? The people could revolt-“ he wanted to shout but Dream calmly interrupted him. 

“And you won’t be hurt because I’m there.” He says. 

“What about them hurting other villagers?” George questions. 

“If they’re mad at you they won’t hurt bystanders, and we just need to hold them off til you can rebuild their trust.” 

“Their trust?” Dream nods. “How do I do that?” 

He’s silent for a beat before he says, “you get what you give so give them what you have.” Its vague and George hates him for it but he sighs and takes it. Better than nothing. 

The night is usually when George sleeps. He’s finding it hard to right now. He’s anxious about going into the village. He knows it won’t be pretty but he doesn’t have the slightest clue how to fix it. But that’s what Dream’s for right? He can trust him and rely on him to help him with this, he’s helped out with everything so far. He remembers what it felt like to cry in front of him and embarrassment surfaces. He never enjoyed being vulnerable and he especially didnt like the idea of being vulnerable in front of Dream. So why was it so easy? It was almost suspiciously easy. 

George groaned and shifted in his bed. He’s thinking too much. He sighs and curls into his sheets before he can think any more and finds the familiar pull of sleep. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I intend to feed this village and fix Charlie’s living situation.” George says.
> 
> Dream stops, “How will you do that?” George looks to Dream, a new glimmer of ambition shining in his chest.
> 
> “With my crown.”

Daybreak comes and a loud crash wakes George with a start. The sound comes from the room beside him and he jumps up from his bed, panic in his chest. He rushes to the next room over, knocking hurriedly on the door. 

“Dream?” He calls, “What’s wrong did something break?” He gets no response. Something akin to panic starts to fill his chest as he pushes the door open only for it to fall flat and annoyance rises instead. 

“Oh- George hi!” Dream says, blinking almost innocently from his spot on the floor, surrounded by broken pieces of a vase. The culprit to the damage sitting serenely on the bedside table, calmly cleaning its paws. 

“What is that?” George asks, staring at the creature. 

“That would be a cat George.” Dream states. 

George rolled his eyes, “Yes I can see that- what is it doing in here?” He huffs. 

“Her name is Cecilia and-“ Dream starts. 

“You named her? How long has she been here- have you been hiding her this whole time?” George’s voice grew. 

“Not the whole time,” Dream defended, “I just found her one morning and she followed me back is all.” George sighed. 

“Is this why Ranboo’s been stuck cooking fish for you all the time?”

“Look I don’t know how to kick her out!” Dream defended. 

“Just kick her out! She’s a cat!” George yelled. 

“Ok well I know that but I can’t just-“

“Dream we can’t keep a cat in the palace.”

“Why not?” Dream whined. 

“Look at where you’re sitting.” Dream glances around, completely ignoring the shards of vase and porcelain. “You idiot,” he mumbled, “She broke a vase and who knows how expensive that is!” Dream looked a little sheepish but then Cecilia leaped from her perch and into his lap and he seemed to completely forget about her little accident. He cooed and rubbed her ears and George sneered. 

“Dream, Cecilia can’t stay.” George argued. 

“What?! Why not?” He whined, a pout on his lips. 

“She’s breaking stuff! Who knows how much she’s broken already?” Dream looked defiant for a moment but soon deflated. 

“Fine but can we at least bring her with us to the village?”

“What? Why- she’ll only get in the way.”

“She’s an outdoor cat she’s fine, and maybe we’ll find a better owner there.” George sighed. 

“Fine, we can bring her with.” Dream beamed.“But on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Dream questioned. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” Dream pouted. 

“For me not to kill you right now, don’t talk” George growled. 

Cecilia gave a long meow from the sack she sat in, perfectly comfortable despite being slung over Dream’s shoulder. 

“What is she a sack of potatoes?” Dream mumbled. 

“No she’s worse, she makes noise.” George retorted completely ignoring the look Dream sends him. 

“Look she’s upset!” Dream said. 

George gives him a look of deadpan, meeting eyes with the cat who’s obviously not upset. “She’s content as can be.” He says. 

“In a sack.” Dream pouts. 

“Enough of this, we’re arriving to the village’s entrance now.” George remarked, slowing his horse. Dream cooed to Cecilia as the horses stalked over to a stand to tie them up. 

“Don’t worry kitty you’ll feel comfortable soon.” Dream cooed, finger tickling under her chin. 

“She’s fine in the sack.” George barked as he hopped off of the horse. Dream glared at him and cradled Cecilia in his arms as he slid off of the horse, tying it to the post with one hand. “Oh,” George starts, “and she stays in the sack while we walk.”

“What?” Dream yelped, “absolutely not! That’s animal torture!” George rolled his eyes and walked up to Dream, sticking a finger out to Cecilia as she laid comfortably in the sack against Dream’s chest. She sniffed curiously before nuzzling it and purring as her whiskers flicked and her teeth revealed at each brush. 

“She’s fine.” George said as he turned on his heel. 

“How’d you do that? She never lets me touch her face.” Dream mumbles looking down at Cecilia, offering a finger like George did. Cecilia held his eyes before biting him cleanly on the pad of his index and Dream reeled back in a hiss. “No Cecilia! Bad Cecilia!” George cackled from a few steps away and Dream glared at him. 

“Come on, we have things to do that don’t involve becoming chow for a cat.” Dream’s brow furrowed but he carefully slung Cecilia over his shoulder and walked cautiously up to George, as to not jostle the cat. George can’t help but shake his head at the sight of the 6”3 Knight carefully walking with a cat in a sack slung against his back. 

“What?” Dream questions, raising a brow as he comes closer. 

“Nothing.” George says with a smile stuck on his lips. “Shall we go?” Dream nods and lets George led the way. He wishes he didn’t know the terrain of the village so well but most of these villages had similar layouts and this village in particular seemed to mimic the layout of one he was very familiar with. 

It looked just like the one he grew up in. The cobbled streets aren’t the same that he used to run across but the lining of houses and markets are. People bustle across each vendor’s booth and some glare and whisper as they pass. It’s similar to the first village they’d visited just the other day but something is different, this time he can actually hear the remarks they make. He doesn’t know if it’s on purpose but from the mocking looks he gets he wouldn’t be surprised if it were. 

Even without this crown, he’s recognized as the king who slept his people’s lives away. 

This time Dream doesn’t throw glances his way, instead George catches him glaring back at a couple of villagers who say certain nasty things he doesn’t wish to repeat even in his own mind. They border on slurs and George can feel the knight’s anger grow. It’s comforting to know that he’d get angry for him but he can’t find it in him to be happy walking down a street full of harsh threats and angry mutterings. But he’s not allowed to complain. He’s the cause of their pain and suffering. If George was more capable of a king then Eret wouldn’t have targeted him and blocked the dams. But that’s what he’s trying to fix so there’s no use in crying over spilt milk. 

However, he should’ve known no one could solve a famine in a day, much less him. 

As he observes the markets he notices that the famine doesn’t look to have stopped in the slightest, or at least not in this village. He knew it wouldn’t magically be fixed but in the other villages they hadn’t been this bad. They had worked together to start farms and celebrated with small banquets. However, as George watches a child’s hand get harshly slapped with a wooden peel for grabbing an apple, he has to clench his fist to stop himself from acting out. 

He doesn’t hold control in this village, the guards do. 

He waits to see if a guard will come and defend the starving child but no one even glances his way. His stomach drops. Is this what his kingdom is? Is this what the guards he put in charge have to show for? 

He can feel his fury rise and bubble and suddenly he feels Dream’s hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t stop himself from slapping him away. He rears back like a caged animal, a sneer on his face and his chest beating erratically. Suddenly his expression drops as he looks at Dream’s surprised face. He steps back a short foot and looks down. His anger is still in his fists, he can feel it, but before he can apologize Dream speaks. 

“How are you feeling?” It’s a simple question.It holds no judgement, no worry, it’s just that. A question. It feels like a wash of cold water down his back, soothing and refreshing against the blazing heat that had once been in his chest. 

“Not good.” Is all he can mutter. What else can he say? He feels guilty, angry, resentful but not at the guards who won’t protect a starving kid, at himself. A king who failed these kids who look just like him. He failed himself. 

“Then let’s fix that,” Dream says and George looks up at him, “May I?” Dream’s hand outstretches to him and George looks at it. He really doesn’t want to be touched so he shakes his head. Dream doesn’t get angry or hurt, he simply lowers his hand and nods. “Do you want to follow the kid?” 

George thinks for a moment. He knows he has to. They have to see more to get to the root of all of the issues but, he knows it’ll hurt. He’s not sure if he wants to see more. Maybe it would hurt less if every time he looked at the boy in rags that he didn’t see himself. Instead he nods his head yes and follows Dream as they walk slowly down the street, keeping an eye on the kid who nurses his red hand. 

The kid slinks into a small alley way and the two slowly follow. He goes down another alley so George and Dream hide by the walls and peer in. 

They watch as the kid sits and holds his hand, fat tears running down his cheeks. He looks small and frail, like he hasn’t eaten in days and George is sure he hasn’t. He doesn’t know if the kid’s emotional because he’s hungry or because he got hit but George figured both were good reasons. He can only imagine being a kid again and when looking to someone for food he got slapped instead. He has to ignore the image to stop himself from getting emotional himself. 

Suddenly he looks back to the kid and there are two more kids standing in front of him, a boy and a girl. They wore harsh sneers and he can hear foul words spewing from their mouths. 

“You were supposed to bring us food!” The girl shouted. 

“I didn’t agree to that! I couldn’t even get food for me!” The kid shouted back, his hand pressed against his chest. Suddenly the taller boy gave a harsh kick to the kid. 

“Who cares if you eat! You’re supposed to be our servant boy!” George couldn’t stand to watch anymore. 

“Hey you brats!” He shouted and the kids heads turned. He stepped forward into the alleyway and the two kids ran back in a rush. The kid who held his arm tried to scramble to leave as well but fell back as soon as his arm touched the wall. George ran to his side and tried to help the kid up but only got slapped away instead. The kid looked back at him, terrified, and ushered back, kicking his legs forward. He looked just like him the night his parents died. He remembered wearing the same expression any time he saw a member of the royal guard. 

“Don’t take me!” The kid shouted and it sent George back. 

“ _Don’t take me! Don’t take me like you took mum and dad!”_

“It’s ok,” Dream’s voice appeared by his side, “we’re not here to hurt you, we’ve brought you food.” The kid looks skeptical but seems to calm. 

George can’t move. He can hardly breathe. His eyes are stuck staring at the kid with brown hair and terrified eyes. Clothes of rags and dirt on his face. He was like him once. But this time, it’s his fault. 

“George.” Dream’s voice snapped him back. “Here hold Cecilia.” He handed the sack to George and he wanted to laugh. Instead he stood to the side and held the damned cat to his chest, staring unblinkingly at the patterns of her fur. She looked up at him, curiously. 

As she started to bat at the stray strands of hair falling from his shoulder into her face, Dream’s voice started to register in his head. 

“How long has it been since you last ate?” He asked the kid, seated in front of him as he gobbled up the bread like he needed it more than air. 

“Couple days.” He said, mouth full and pronunciation skewed. Dream looked at him with that same expression, free of judgement, simply a question. 

“Where are your parents?” Dream asked. 

“Dead.” George’s eyes widened but the kid looked unfazed. Even Dream looked more effected by the kids words than the kid himself. 

“Where have you been living?” 

“Around.” The kid says licking his fingers and looking sad that it was gone, “hey mister do you have any more?” Dream nodded and handed the kid another piece of bread. He must’ve brought it from the kitchen. 

Dream continued to ask the kid questions. 

“Do you have any friends or family?”

“Not really,” he says, he stops eating and looks at his food, “I don’t make them easily. Most people don’t like me I don’t think.” 

Cecilia bit at George’s hair and he turned back to her. Her paw touched at his face and he frowned. Then he turned and crouched next to Dream, looking at the kid. 

“Here.” He said, holding out the sack, Cecilia looking at the kid curiously. His eyes widened and almost sparkled when he looked at the feline. He grabbed the sack gently and held her close to his chest, holding a hand to her nose in permission. She looked at it before gently touching it with her nose and rubbing it against her face. George heard her start to purr and smiled. 

“Hi kitty!” The kid said, awestruck at the fluffy creature cuddling against his arms. 

“Her name is Cecilia.” He told the kid and he smiled. 

“Hi Cecilia!” Cecilia meowed and the kid had almost forgotten about his bread. He picked up the almost finished loaf and broke off a piece for Cecilia, holding it to her nose as she chomped on it. 

Something rose in George’s chest. Something warm. Suddenly he stood, he had work to do. He grabbed at his hooded cloak and pulled the hood over his head. 

“What’s your name kid?” He asked the boy. 

“It’s Charlie.” He said looking up at George petting Cecilia who had left her sack for his lap. 

George nodded, “I’ll be seeing you soon again then Charlie.”

“Wait really?” The boy said with a wide grin, “does this mean we’re friends?” 

A smile rose to George’s lips, “Yes, I’d say so.” 

“Awesome! What’s your name mister?”

“My name is George, Charlie.”

“Then see you soon George!” The kid grinned. 

George nodded and left the alleyway, Dream following close behind. 

“What do you intend to do?” The blonde asked, standing by his side. 

“The guards have too much power.” He says, “I intend to take it from them.” Dream hums, nodding as they walk back into the bustle of the street. 

“And then what?” He questions, eyes fixed on George. 

“I intend to feed this village and fix Charlie’s living situation.” George says. 

Dream stops, “How will you do that?” George looks to Dream, a new glimmer of ambition shining in his chest. 

“With my crown.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter! The next chapter will be much longer so I decided to cut it here before most of the action. I will get the next chapter out as soon as possible!


End file.
